


Our little corner of Paradise

by Vanemis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Explicit Sexual Content, Fake Marriage, Future Fic, Illusions, It's one of Gabriel's lessons, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Suicide Attempt, Trickster Gabriel, Trickster powers, Wincest - Freeform, parenting, polygamous marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanemis/pseuds/Vanemis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's trying to hunt the Trickster but ends up as part of one of Gabriel's pranks. One moment he's getting clawed to death, the next Sam and Gabe are his husbands and they're happily married. Big house, decent jobs... it's not what Dean wanted his life to be, except Gabriel's a lovesick moron and Dean can finally kiss his brother in public.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Just thought this up a few days ago and it wouldn't stop bouncing around my head until I wrote it down.  
> This is my first time writing Gabriel (even though he's my fav) so bear with me :) This is a WIP so I don't know how often I can update.
> 
> FYI I have only written up to chapter 9 for 'New Beginnings' and I don't think I'll carry on with it  
> unless anyone's really interested.

Dean ran across the narrow street, ducking into an open doorway. The door slammed closed, trapping Dean inside and creating a barrier between him and the creature clawing madly at the wood. He could hear it screech at him before a deafening silence overcame them, informing Dean that the beast had left the door to find another entry. As he gathered his bearings, he noticed a staircase along the far wall. It curved once before reaching the next level, and continued on for another five floors.

He sprinted towards it, taking three steps at a time until the staircase ended, revealing an empty room devoid of any furniture or lights. The windows were cracked and allowed the setting sun to cast long shadows across the dusty wooden floorboards.

Sam was nowhere near, thankfully, since Dean had decided to go out alone to hunt the Trickster. The annoying man had become a serious pain in the last month, creating havoc where he deemed fit, leaving Sam and Dean to hunt down his monsters and help the traumatised victims. Of course, the Trickster claimed he was teaching ‘lessons’ and Dean often found himself agreeing with the Trickster’s view but not his brutal, unforgiving methods.  
Stupidly, Dean took it upon himself to actually find the Trickster before he could kill anyone else, but Dean was too late. The creature he’d conjured up had caught Dean’s scent and chased him through the streets of a nameless town. Like it mattered where he was, Dean was fucked.

The growling returned a moment later when Dean had finally caught his breath. Its hideous leathery hide peeked out of the shadows, eyes glowing like fire in the last moments of sunlight. Dean tried to run but the thing blocked his only exit.  
His ammo was none existent now and he’d dropped his knife wrestling the thing earlier.  
Swearing under his breath, he prepared himself to run and jump over the creature, but he was a split-second too late. It pounced on him, claws digging into his chest as its snapping jaw attempted to latch itself around his throat, hoping for a quick kill. But Dean fought back, bracing his forearms against the beast.  
Except he was standing to close to the window. The impact shattered the glass behind him, sending him and the beast flying. Shards of glass glistened in the sun but Dean had no time to appreciate it.

With all the force he could muster, he spun them so the beast would fall first, bones crunching horribly loud against the concrete. It took most of the damage and died on impact but Dean had fallen too. His body felt on fire, glass embedded deep into his flesh and bones tore through his skin in a mess of blood and gore.  
Everything began to darken quickly and as Dean took his last breath, the only thing going through his mind was Sammy’s face and his name whispered through his mind.

 

 

He shot up, sweat dripping down his face and obscuring his vision. The thin sheets were bundled up around his waist. Dean raised a hand to wipe away the moisture and took several deep breaths. His vision stopped swimming and Dean finally cleared his head enough to look around the motel room for his brother. Except he wasn’t in a motel room. It was much nicer than that, with a king-size bed and stripped wallpaper. The cream furniture actually matched, as though it came from a set, and the curtains were parted, allowing the fresh breeze to come through the open window and cool Dean’s shaking form.  
It was still dark outside and a quick glance to his right told him it was 3:04am. The green numbers were barely visible under the pile of magazines. But his gun was missing. A rummage under his pillow later and he knew his weapons were probably hidden from him.

Something small and warm shifted beside him as he finally lied back down again, curling around his arm to seek warmth and comfort. A hand caressed his torso in soft, sleepy motions before it stopped and the person finally settled again. Dean froze in place and nervously glanced to his left. He figured a girl had done something and taken him to wherever this place was. But he was stunned to find a young man with soft, honey-brown hair that curled ever so slightly around his nape.  
The fucking Trickster! Dean groaned, pointedly ignoring the man cuddling him.

Behind the Trickster was Sam, his back turned to them but close enough to still share their warmth in the large bed. Dean raised his hand again, this time to rub at his eyes in frustration but a glinting band distracted him.On his ring finger was a simple gold band, some strange language etched into it that Dean had never seen before. Despite himself, Dean looked down at the Trickster’s hand, finding an almost identical ring except for three, small inlaid emeralds.  
From his spot, Dean couldn’t see Sam’s hands but he was willing to bet that Sam also had a ring on.

After lying as still as possible for god knows how long, Dean finally made a move to get out of bed. He dislodged the Trickster’s arm which had wrapped itself tightly around Dean. Normally, Dean wouldn’t mind a little cuddling time, he always tried to with his partners but this was the Trickster and no way would Dean cuddle up to that- that thing!

He made his way through the lavish house, checking each room for his weapons and coming out empty. There was a gun cabinet under the stairs but Dean couldn’t find a key.  
The house was filled with pictures of the three men at various events and only in the living room, above the mantel, did he find their wedding photos. They all looked so happy and Dean wanted to punch the Trickster so hard just for creating this illusion.

Lifting the frame, Dean inspected it for any hiding key or message. He held it up but nothing happened. Instead, the image of the three of them laughing and smiling almost brought a tear. Dean knew he’d never be able to have anything like that with Sam and even if the white picket-fence life was what Sam wanted, Dean was a hunter through and through.

“Dean?” A sleepy voice mumbled from behind him. “What are you doing up?"

  
Dean jumped slightly at the sound but schooled his features as he placed the frame back in its original place. He turned slowly, watching the Trickster observe him with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

“You know this isn’t funny, right? This is what Sam wants, not me.” The Trickster looked puzzled for a moment and sighed. He stepped towards Dean, hand reaching out to touch Dean’s arm. Dean pulled away, sharply, and he swore he saw the Trickster flinch.

“I thought you were happy, Dean. We have everything we need here. Did something happen yesterday?”

“Oh, you mean like being almost killed by one of your tricks? Well, yeah, that does kinda piss me off.” To his credit, the Trickster was an excellent actor. He glanced up at Dean uncertainly and tried to think of the best way to speak to Dean without angering him.

“Dean, I don’t know what you’re on about, but we can work through this, okay?”

“Enough crap!” Dean yelled, unable to keep calm when the Trickster was doing nothing more than feigning innocence.  
“Stop this little lesson of yours right now, and we’ll call it even. Because, trust me, I don’t wanna see Sammy die over and over like you did with me!”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t kno-” His words were cut off as Dean angrily grabbed at his throat and pushed him up against the nearest wall, crashing the smaller man into it a bit harder than he meant to. His grip tightened and Dean smirked as something close to fear flashed in the Trickster’s eyes.He started to struggle for air, hands reaching up to push Dean away but the taller man used his height to tower over the Trickster, stopping him for escaping.

“You’re gonna stop this right now…” Dean threatened, squeezing harder and grinning down at the scared man.

“Dean!” His little brother’s voice rang out through the room and before Dean could reacted, he was forcefully dragged away from the Trickster, effectively letting his hand slip away from the other’s throat.  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sam demanded, leaving Dean’s side and wrapping and arm around the Trickster’s shoulders as he coughed uncontrollably and wheezed.

“He’s the Trickster, Sammy! The one we’ve been hunting! You hate him, remember?”

“Dean, we gave that up years ago! God, how you could you do this to Gabe?”

“Gabe? That filth’s got a fucking name?” Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Dean barely had time to register Sam’s fist connecting with his jaw before he was stumbling back and falling on his ass. Pain erupted across his jaw and cheek.

Dean looked up, confused, to find Sam back at the Trick- Gabe’s side, comforting him with a hug and hushed words that Dean strained to hear. Gabe clinged to Sam desperately and let himself be lifted up bridal-style and carried back upstairs, but not without Sam glaring daggers at Dean as he left.

Thoroughly confused and in need of a drink, Dean made his way over to the kitchen and poured himself some whiskey. He downed it like water and poured a second glass. The liquid burned down his throat and calmed Dean enough to think clearly again.

So in this illusion, they’re all married and all aware of the Trickster’s powers but why wasn’t Sam trying to kill him? What did he mean by saying they gave it up? Surely he didn’t mean hunting… but the house was empty of weapons and there weren’t any salt lines or seals anywhere. Was the Trickster trying to tell Dean to stop hunting? Two years ago, he was showing Sam how life would be without Dean. Maybe this was about peace between them but for Sam to forgive the Trickster, that was just unbelievable.

“What’s gotten into you?” Sam asked as he walked into the kitchen, reaching for a glass, filling it and sipping at the whiskey.

“This is all an illusion, Sam. You know that. That asshole is tricking you, again.”

“That ‘asshole’ is my husband, Dean. And he’s yours, too.”

“This isn’t real, Sam.”

“Yes, it is. What happened? Is it those nightmares again?”

“No, of course not, Sammy. Just please listen to me. I was fighting one of his creatures and I fell out of a building. This is an illusion of his and I don’t know why he’s doing it! We’ve got a fucking apocalypse to deal with! Cas is waiting for us and we don’t have time to b-”

“Dean. There’s no apocalypse. Look, I don’t know who this Cas is, so maybe you should just slow down a little and listen to me. Gabe is our husband, we’ve been married for five years now. We both agreed to quit hunting and settle down. Gabe was there after you came back from Hell and he helped us out. Don’t you remember any of this?”

“We quit hunting?”

“Yes, of course, we did. It was too much. You said so yourself-”

“But all those people out there need our help.” 

“We’re not hunting anymore, Dean. We made a vow. Those people will just have to-”

“Die? Die, right? That what you were gonna say?” Dean seethed, glaring at Sam just for even suggesting that Dean would quit helping people. That might be Sam’s dream to live a normal life but it sure as hell wasn’t Dean’s.

“Dean, I’m not having this conversation again. It’s been five years and nothing you say or do will change the facts. Now, I’m going to bed. You can join us but you better fucking apologise to Gabe.” Sam finished his glass and rinsed it out before leaving Dean alone in the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean starts adjusting to his new life.

Days went by without Dean bringing up the illusions again. He learned a lot about his husbands over the past week and he started to feel more and more comfortable around Gabe than he wanted to.

Since Sam had renounced hunting, he’d gone back to university and gotten all his degrees in law. Most of his cases nowadays were big and he earned a lot of money, not that it mattered to them since Gabe could snap anything they needed into existence. Sam made it as a hot-shot lawyer and sometimes spend nights in other states, according to Sam’s past bank statements, which Dean had thoroughly checked.  
Even though half his wardrobe included expensive suits, Sam still preferred wearing his tattered jeans and old t-shirts he’d owned for many years. He still drank the same shitty beers and pranked Dean on rare occasions with Gabe’s help. He wasn't all that different from the real Sam.

Sam seemed convinced that Dean was pretending not to know anything, but he still left post-it notes around the house, especially on photos, telling Dean the date and main events.  
Their old hunting equipment was in the basement, the only place Dean hadn’t checked. To his surprise, he’d found a panic room, much like Bobby’s but larger and built for comfort as well as safety. The walls of the main room were lined with weapons and ammo boxes. Dean had spent two days down there with nothing but beer, his rock music and cleaning rags. Each gun had been thoroughly cleaned and double-checked and the ammo had been reorganised instead of being dumped everywhere like Sam used to do with his duffel bag.

As Dean took a final glance at the panic room, he mentally thanked Gabe for building it. At least they had protection from any nasty bitch hell-bent on revenge.

It was so different than Bobby’s. Instead of one room, it was almost like a second house underneath. The main room had a demonic trap which took up the entire floor. That didn’t stop it from being decorated with plush couches and 70” flat-screen, not to mention all the gaming consoles that Gabe loved to play on. Of course, he had two of each for their actual home.

A wide corridor extended out with two doors on each side, all were bedrooms with large beds and matching furniture. All of which were nailed down properly for security. There was an adjoining bathroom with a bathtub and separate shower for each bedroom.Two more doors led out of the panic room. One to the impressive kitchen and the other to a regular gym so no one got out of shape if they were trapped for a long time.

  
Dean left the panic room door unlocked and walked through the dusty basement. It was filled with your typical junk and a door on the right led out to the garage where their cars were parked. As soon as Sam had left for work, Dean had ran out to check on Baby, breathing out a sigh of relief when the black and chrome beauty was parked outside, the sun’s rays bouncing off her shiny paintwork.

He’d left her in the garage, facing out for a quick get-away. At the end of each day, Sam would park his silver Jaguar next to the Impala. Sam was awfully proud of his own baby and showed it off all the time but the Impala still got more attention. Gabriel’s car would often change on the day. If he was in a good mood, it was gorgeous blue ‘69 Mustang, but if he was angry or sad, it changed to one of those new sport cars that cost a lifetime’s wage.

Though it didn’t matter to Dean, he knew immediately how the Trickster was feeling the moment he got up. It startled him how easily he got on with the other man, but he still wasn’t able to accept him as anything more than an acquaintance, let alone his husband. Dean and Sam were much better off now without the stress that came with hunting.   
They still argued plenty but there was an actual reason behind it, rather than tiredness.

Making his way through the house, he toed his boots off, knowing that Gabe and Sam would both scowl him for leaving dirt. Not that it mattered, Gabe could make it vanish with a snap of his fingers. It was so much easier living with a Trickster than Dean would've ever imagined.

He found Gabriel in the kitchen. The latter was busy preparing his and Dean’s lunch. He must have heard Dean enter because he gave him a smile over his shoulder before returning to the seasoning he’d carefully prepared.

“You finally finish the panic room?” Gabe asked, turning on the oven and placing the meat inside.

“Yeah, all done. Smells good, by the way.” Dean nodded towards the oven as he grabbed them beers from the fridge. It was nice having an actual fridge rather than that old cooler in Baby’s trunk.

“Thanks. Figured you could use a treat.” Gabe smirked, accepting his beer and plopping himself down onto the couch, not even waiting for Dean to follow. Sure enough, the hunter sat down on the other side of the couch.

Gabe sighed, shook his head with a grin, and crawled closer to Dean until the hunter was almost crushed between the couch and the Trickster. Dean tried to protest but Gabe leaned up into, pressing their lips together. Unable to even think, Dean merely froze for the two seconds that kiss took. Gabe settle back, grabbed Dean’s arm and wrapped around his shoulder.   
The silence didn’t seem to bother him but Dean felt the need to reach over and flick the TV on with the remote. The news was on but neither of them were listening to the girl on screen. She really needed to tone down her make-up, though.

“Gabriel?” The man in question hummed in content. “When is this going to end?”

The Trickster tensed for a moment, just barely enough for Dean to notice. Dean had tried to avoid the conversation for the past week, but like this, cuddling up to someone he was supposed to hate…

“Do you want it to end?”

“It’s not who I am. I’m a hunter, Gabriel. The Apocalypse is about to start and you have me living in the fucking suburbs!”

“It’s the life you would’ve had, if you would just quit hunting.”

“No, it’s not. Gabe, I can’t just stop hunting. There are people out there dying and I can actually help them!” Gabe fell silent after that, refusing to speak another word, even through lunch, up until Sam came home early and they both went upstairs.

Dean could hear them moaning and calling out each other’s names, but he refused to join in. Sam wasn’t himself. Not really. And even if Gabe was handsome and a terrible flirt, Dean couldn’t find the strength to fuck with either of them. He let them enjoy each other and that was enough for Dean.

 

* * *

 

A month passed and Dean found himself slowly enjoying Gabriel’s company more and more. They flirted all the time, with or without Sam. Dean even liked the surprise kisses and hugs Gabe was so fond of giving, like he was unable to contain his love and needed to share it with his husbands.

In this illusion, Dean was a mechanic in a local garage but he only worked part-time since both of his partners earned more than plenty of money to keep them going.  
It turned out that Gabe was a well-known artist and often did a lot of CGI work for games, not that Dean really knew what that meant.   
Still, Gabe had his own office upstairs and Dean had seen him actually drawing and not just snapping up his work. Dean respected him a little bit more for that.

At least Dean was allowed to leave the house. Either Gabriel was immensely powerful and able to make everyone do what he said, or he had only just twisted some parts of Dean's life like the dates printed in newspapers. It didn't feel as restricting as he thought it would. Dean left the house every few days to work down at the garage, busying himself with repairs and heavier work than just changing tyres or oil. The guys he worked with weren't very chatty and they often spent the day in silence, except for the radio blaring old rock soundtracks.

Since there was no need to buy food with Gabriel around, Dean didn't have to go through the whole awkward process of shopping in a supermarket. He'd grown up with gas station food and even stepping into a mall just felt wrong unless he was working a job. Though apparently that hadn't happened in five years... 

Dean hadn’t brought up their conversation again. The answer was always the same, and Dean got tired of finding excuses to leave his little paradise after the thirtieth time.   
So what if he wanted a break? It was the end of the world and this place, this illusion, it wasn’t bad at all. He really did have everything he wanted. A big house, his brother by his side and an extra partner that adored Sam and cared for Dean.   
Dean did miss hunting, but this was just a holiday. A small break before everything ended. At least Sam seemed to be acting like his usual self. Maybe Gabe hadn’t messed too much with his memories.

  
Later that day, Dean came home to find his husbands in the kitchen, darting back and forth to the dining room. They never ate there unless something important happened.  
Sam whizzed past him, balancing various plates on both arms. He didn’t seem to notice Dean so the hunter just walked into the kitchen. He rounded the island and sneaked up on Gabriel, placing his hands on the smaller man’s hips.

Gabriel squeaked, obviously too engrossed with his cooking to have noticed the hunter. He relaxed and sank back against Dean’s strong chest, letting the other’s hands wander across his hips and sides, gently caressing the skin beneath the jean’s waistband. Gabriel had a sexy habit of letting his jeans slip low and normally he’d walk around without a shirt, letting Sam and Dean stare at him hungrily before Sam decided to fuck him against the nearest wall. Dean had been there. He'd also learned he was a bit a of voyeur. 

“Sooo how was your day?” Gabe asked, heavily approving of Dean pushing his half-hard cock against his ass and moving in teasing circles.

“Tiring, but I’m sure I’ve still got enough energy for this.” Dean mumbled against Gabriel’s neck, pressing a soft kiss against his husband’s fluttering pulse.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but you’re gonna have to wait. Meal’s almost ready and Sam has something important to tell you.”

“More important than teasing you?”

“Only just a little.” Gabe smirked and reached over to turn the hob off. “I’m afraid that I’m going ask you to join Sammykins in the dining room now.” With that, he turned and gently pushed at Dean until the hunter finally backed off.

With a groan, Dean obeyed and walked into the adjoined room. The mahogany table was set at the far end near the french doors leading to the modest garden.  
Sam was already sat at the head, sipping some of that girly wine from the collection they kept only for special occasions like these. Dean hated the idea of drinking over-priced grape juice but even he had to admit it tasted nice with Gabriel’s meals. The Trickster could have easily been a high-end chef. At least as an artist, he could keep better tabs on Dean.The thought made a shiver run down his spine, so Dean elected to ignore it and enjoy the evening.

Dean sat at his brother’s side, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. Sam laughed softly and cupped Dean’s face, pulling him into a deep kiss that got them moaning and hard. Gabriel wolf-whistled at them before setting down the trays of beef, potatoes and salad.

Dean winked at him and pulled away from Sam, reluctantly. A month prior and he wouldn’t have been able to do anything with Sam in front of others. They loved each other, in ways others couldn’t understand, so they kept their relationship hiding behind walls and under motel sheets.

Yet with Gabriel it was so different. They didn’t need to hide and often Dean wondered just how long the Trickster had known about them. Maybe their first encounter had given them away.Dean remembered being pretty loud and excited that night. But he’d never tell Sam he’d been unbelievably turned on by Gabriel that day. Definitely the sexiest janitor by far.  
As though Gabriel had read his mind, the Trickster laughed and held Dean’s eye just a little longer than usual.

“So, Dean, there’s something Gabe and I have been discussing the last few days and we decided to tell you this way.”

“When I’m drunk and stuffed.” Dean joked.

“Oh sweetie, you’ll definitely be stuffed tonight.” Gabriel winked and threw the hunter a smirk for good measure. Dean flushed dark red and attempted to hide his face into the wine glass. Gabriel’s piercing golden eyes watched him squirm for several moments but Sam cleared his throat.

“As I was saying,” Sam gave them his best bitch face, “We’ve come to a decision and we think that maybe you should start hunting again.” Dean’s face lit up and his mind raced at the possibilities.

“Now, Sammy here isn’t interested, and we’re not about to let you wander out alone in the dark. So, I’ll be joining you. Think of me as your sexy bodyguard.”

“Aren’t you a little small to be a bodyguard?” Dean teased, masking his excitement and worry at the same time. That meant Gabriel would always be with him, watching his every move.

“Honey, I may be short, but I’m big in all the right places.” Gabe smirked, not missing the flash of worry in Dean’s eyes at the thought of hunting with him. Sure, it was just to cheer him up a little but he could understand why Dean baulked at the idea. At least the hunts would be real.

The evening went by quietly and soon the trio had retreated upstairs and cuddled up together. Dean was still uncomfortable with the arrangement so instead of joining in, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched Gabriel and Sam kiss feverently.

Gabriel was already naked, cock pressed against Sam’s stomach. He moved slowly to let Sam and Dean fully enjoy the experience. His lips moved from Sam’s to his neck, pressing soft kisses here and there and occasionally nipping and leaving dark bruises to blossom across Sam’s tanned skin. He always made sure that people could see the marks he left. Sam belonged to them, and if Dean didn’t want to mark his brother, Gabriel would happily do so.

Sam moaned when the Trickster circled a nipple, tracing its shape and licking it with the flat of his clever tongue. Gabriel had an oral fixation and if he wasn’t kissing or licking, he was swallowing Sam’s cock down the hilt. He’d once let Dean fuck his mouth, and that had been on a whole level for Dean.  
The memory of Gabriel’s wet, inviting mouth made his cock twitch against the zip of his jeans. Watching the Trickster work his magic on Sam was almost as good.

Gabriel licked a wet stripe up the length of his cock, smirking as it twitched up into his parted lips, begging to be sucked and lavished with attention. The Trickster wasted no time swallowing Sam down. He didn't have a gag reflex at all. Which meant Sam was free to buck and thrust into his warm, wet mouth. Sam gripped Gabriel's hair almost painfully, tugging sharply at the strands when Gabriel hollowed his cheeks and moved his tongue in a zig-zag pattern along the underside and up to play with his slit, already dripping with precum. 

Sam cried out as he came, tugging at Gabe’s hair when he refused to budge and kept sucking and teasing. His cock became too oversensitive and Gabriel finally let up, licking his lips seductively as though he had to.  
It wasn’t hard to be sexy when his hair was mussed, his lips were red and swollen and a thick trail of cum ran down his chin. Sam eagerly lapped it up and pulled the smaller man into his lap as he sat up. They kissed and shared Sam’s seed between them, moaning into each other. Sam collapsed back against the sheets and Gabriel stayed where he was, knees on both of Sam’s sides and hands braced on the heaving chest beneath him.

“So Dean-o… Since Sammykins seems out of the race, what do you want, my ass, my mouth or my cock?” Gabriel asked, nonchalantly. His casualness almost worked except for the deep, gravelly voice he was sporting now from being face-fucked.

Dean blinked up at him and realised that he was thrusting up into his fist, precum beading at the slit. when had he taken his cock out? He considered each option and as much as he liked being fucked, especially by Sam, Dean was curious about fucking a Pagan God.   
He answered with a deep, sex-heavy tone which surprised them both. Gabriel crawled off Sam and chuckled when the youngest hunter mumbled sleepily into his pillows.

Stripping out of his clothes took too long for Gabriel, apparently, because he snapped his fingers and Dean was immediately naked and already above him on the bed. Dean was unceremoniously flipped over so the Trickster could straddle his chest.

  
Gabriel attacked his mouth, biting and sucking on his parted lips until Dean groaned underneath him. When Gabriel was distracted, Dean hooked his legs around him and changed their positions, using his momentum to capture Gabriel’s arms and hold them above him, effectively pining the Trickster down.   
The Trickster laughed but the sound was swallowed by Dean’s rough kiss, giving Gabriel’s mouth the same treatment he’d just received. The taste of Sam still lingered and Dean gratefully licked up what his brother had missed and Gabriel hadn't yet swallowed.

“Aren’t you an eager boy?” Gabe teased, rolling his hips up into Dean’s. Their cocks rubbed against each other and the friction was amazing, burning deep within both of them.

“Shut up…” Dean growled against Gabriel’s throat, peppering it with kisses and gentle nips.

“You don’t need to waste time prepping me… I’m ready now.”

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“You can’t, trust me. I just wanna… FUCK!” Gabriel moaned as Dean circled a nipple and tentatively sucked on the nub, licking over it.  
Dean looked up into Gabe’s golden eyes only to find them almost black with lust, the golden ring thin. Gabe nodded and Dean moved down his body, leaving a trail of wet kisses that cooled with night breeze flowing through the open window.

Snaking a hand down to his cock, Dean pumped himself lightly, already close and he didn’t want to spill the second he was inside the Trickster. Gabriel spread his legs invitingly and wrapped them around Dean’s waist, drawing him closer. He felt the thick head of Dean’s cock press against his hole and smiled when Dean gasped, cock suddenly carefully lubed up. Even if he didn’t need prep, lube was always a good thing.

Dean thrust forward in one quick jab, filling  Gabriel with a cry. He was so close but he needed to hold off just for a while longer. Gabriel’s eyes fluttered closed and a breathless moan escaped past his bruised lips. When the Trickster started to roll his hips down, Dean pulled out almost entirely and slammed back into his husband’s tight hole. The heat engulfing him was unlike anything he’d ever felt, and Dean wondered if it had to do with Gabriel’s powers or whether he was just amazingly tight.

“Fuck…. Deaaaannn… please, faster, baby, _please_!” Gabe cried out, followed by series of deep moans that would make a porno star blush. The noises he was making was enough to send Dean flying over the edge. His orgasm crashed down hard and the world went black for a few seconds.  
When he regained his senses, he glanced down to see the mess Gabriel had made of their chests. Thick ropes of cum trailed up, reaching the Trickster’s throat. He leaned down and experimentally licked it, moaning at the sweetness. Must be all the sugar he ate.

A hand reached up to play with his hair, ruffling it affectionately. Dean faintly heard the familiar snapping sound of fingers and he suddenly found himself licking at warm skin rather than cum. Dean pouted but kissed Gabriel softly and tried to pull out, relishing the slick slide of his cock. He gave himself a few shallow thrusts and finally let himself slide out, already looking forward to the next fuck. Another snap and they were both clean, lying side by side with Dean in the middle.   
Sam decided to snuggle up as well, resting a heavy arm across Dean’s stomach. Gabriel did the same a little lower and gave Dean a soft squeeze before he fell asleep promptly.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading this and leaving kudos! It's really been amazing to see so many people read my work and I'm very happy with how it's turning out.  
> There's no end in sight yet (cuz I haven't even planned one) but I WILL complete this, even if it's the last thing I do hahahaha!!

It had taken almost no time at all to locate a demon. Sam did all the research, incredibly annoyed that Dean would start hunting again but the feeling of nostalgia crashed down on him. Five years had passed since the last hunt; a Wendigo in Denver. Dean had been held down, claws digging into his arms as the hideous monster attempted to drag him back to its hiding spot inside an abandoned mine shaft.

Glimpses of a similar scene flash before his eyes. Dean hunting some ugly beast. Its razor-sharp claws ripping him apart, blood spewing uncontrollably as Dean tried to overthrow it, but to no avail. Dean’s eyes widening and suddenly- nothing.

Sam collapsed back on the bed, gasping for air as the memory he didn’t know he possessed disappeared, leaving behind only fear and confusion. At first he thought it was the Hell Hound that had killed Dean years ago, but as the scene played on, Sam knew it was something else. Something he wasn’t sure he understood.

Shaking his head to clear his fogged mind, Sam shakily stood up. The paperwork he’d gathered was strewn around the bed and Sam took his time reorganising it.  
He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, smiling inwardly when he saw Gabriel pushed up against the counter. Dean hovered over him, rubbing his calloused palms into the Trickster’s hips and pressing soft kisses to his neck. Gabriel let out a soft moan and smiled at Sam as the hunter made his way over. Sam reached out with one hand on Dean’s back, the other carefully placing the research down, out of the way.

Dean paused to turn to his brother, placing both his palms on Sam’s chest and splaying out his fingers, rubbing gently into the firm muscles. The brothers shared a long kiss, teasing and nipping each others lips. Behind them, Gabriel whined, feeling left out. Sam chuckled and brought the Trickster into the kiss.  
It was messy and slick and perfect. The glide of their tongues and the gentle moans vibrating through them was enough to convince Sam that this was the best decision he’d ever made. As though reading his mind, Gabriel snaked a hand down to hold Sam’s, absentmindedly rubbing over Sam’s gold ring. The jewel was a dark crimson that seemed to glow like fire when held up the sunset, which Sam had done often after their wedding. At least that’s what his memories told him.

Sam remember the memory he’d seen in the bedroom and fear spiked through him. He tensed and Dean instantly stopped kissing, looking into Sam’s eyes for an answer. When he found none, Dean pulled back, knowing Gabriel was worried as well.

“Sammy, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, taking a step back to let his brother regain his composure. Sam looked away for a brief second before flashing his husbands a fake smile.

“Nothing. Just worried about the hunt…” Sam lied. If he mentioned the memory, Dean would surely over worry and not focus on the hunt itself. He didn’t want his brother getting hurt again. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow but shrugged it off. Even with all the abrupt changes in Dean’s life, he still wasn’t up the chick flick moments with his little brother. An awkward silence filled the kitchen.

“So Sammykins, get all your research done?” Gabriel quipped in, leaning over the island to get a good look at the paperwork. He didn’t exactly need to know any of this but curiosity got the better of him.

Basic demonic possession. Some lady killed five people in one night and had no motive. Blah blah blah.

“Uh yeah. Need me to go over it?” Sam swallowed dryly as he finally calmed his thoughts.   
He looked over to his left and hummed in appreciation as his husband bent seductively over the marble worktop, hips angled in a way that his ass was raised. The perfect height for Sam to just slot in behind him, hips flush against the curve of Gabriel’s ass, making small circling motions to tease the shorter male.

“Down boy.” Dean growled beside Sam, eyeing his brother’s movements with black, lust-filled eyes.

“I think we can take it for here, right, Dean?” Gabriel said, turning to face Sam and grounding his hard cock down against Sam’s, relishing the throaty moan that escape his soft lips.

 

* * *

 

Dean’s duffel bag was thrown into the backseat of the Impala, filled with his basic hunting equipment. It was just one demon after all. God knows if the thing was even real or another one of the Trickster’s creations.

The leather creaked beneath him as Dean settled himself comfortably. He looked expectantly to his right for Sam to sit down and complain about the lack of leg-room like he always did but instead, the short honey-haired Trickster sat there. Gabriel closed his door and propped his feet up on the dashboard, grinning widely when Dean glared daggers at him. The hunter didn’t say anything, he just leaned to the side to flick on the CD player. Metallica was supposed to start playing but instead ‘Never gonna give you up’ blasted out of the speakers. Dean flayed his arms in shock before struggling to turn the player off completely.

“Dude, did you just rick-roll me?!” Dean muttered, eyes wide in mock-terror as he watched Gabriel struggle to stop laughing. The fucker was wheezing by the time Dean finally pulled out of the garage, ignoring the odd looks he got from his neighbours.

Gabriel finally calmed down after what felt like an eternity and when Dean turned his music back on, Metallica thankfully played. The rest of the trip to Indiana was rather quiet except for the music. As they passed through the various state borders, Dean retold stories about various hunts, and Gabriel listened, occasionally adding a little inappropriate joke here and there. His stories always ended with graphic detail of sex between Sam and Dean and by the time they reached their motel, both of them were rock hard.

  
The next morning, Dean got his gear ready, not bothering to wake Gabriel. The Trickster was tangled in the bed sheets, the white fabric nestled around his waist.  
He’d changed the interior the night before, after complaining about the dirty state of the room and how ashamed the owners should’ve been.  
Yet Dean hadn’t really paid much attention when he had the Trickster sitting in his lap, cock deep in his ass as he rolled his hips too slowly for Dean’s liking.

 

* * *

 

  
The woman was hiding out in her friend’s house just outside of the small town. Dean got in pretty easily, holding up his FBI badge up to the frightened girl and easily walked in.   
The demon was still inside the victim, keeping her somewhat alive and moving. Dean rounded up on her and quickly drew a salt line around her whilst she was distracted.   
He was just about to finish his exorcism when the room began to shake.

The ceiling light flickered violently and cracks began to form, breaking apart the walls and floor, including the neat salt line. The demon hissed at Dean and laughed darkly.  
Before Dean could react, she grabbed his arm. The room spun madly for a dizzying second and when the hunter opened his eyes - when had he shut them? They were in a different location.

Dean’s knees were kicked harshly and he went down, wincing under his breath when he hit concrete. He looked up, ready to have his usual stare-off with the demon but instead of just the girl, maybe twenty or thirty people were surrounding him in a tight circle, leaving no chances of escape.

“The fuck is going on here?” Dean asked, keeping his voice as light-hearted as he could so he didn’t appear scared. Bullshit, he was fucking terrified, but like hell would he show it.

The demons smiled at him, flashing their black, glassy eyes at him in unison.

“You guys practice that? What is this? Creep-Dean-out-day? Uh?”

“You’ve had this coming for a long time, Dean Winchester.” A teenage male replied.

“Oh I’m sorry, you seem to know me but I don’t recognise any of you bastards…”

“You’re brave to joke in the face of death.” A woman answered.

“Yeah, well, when you’ve died a hundred times, it kinda gets boring, you know?”

“Trust me, this is the last time you’ll die. And you won’t be resurrected again.”

“Uh huh, except, slight problem here, last time I was meant to die for good, an angel swooped in so…”

“Those God-worshipping idiots won’t come for you this time.”

“Remind me, don’t you guys worship Lucifer? Wasn’t he an angel? So what you technically just did, was insult your boss. Yesh.” The woman glowered, raising her hand to crush Dean, forcing him down, face first, into the concrete with an invisible force.

The demons gathered closer and started to pull the same trick, watching with glee as they wrangled a hoarse cry from the hunter. Dean cried out despite himself, hearing and feeling his own bones crack under the pressure. Soon a bone would pierce his vital organs and he would surely die.  
Where the fuck was Gabriel? Did they catch him as well? No, Gabe had abandoned him.

This was his fault, really. He’d carried on living in Gabriel’s fantasy world and now he was going to die. Again. This was getting really boring now. Dean should’ve known something would go wrong. After all, Gabriel had killed him in a hundred different ways. Getting turned into a meat pancake was probably a new one.

His vision darkened at the edges until he could barely see the various faces peering at his dying body. He must’ve looked a mess. An ear-piercing crack rang out, followed by a jet stream of blood running up his throat which he unceremoniously gagged and chocked on. The blood spewed out of his paling lips, mixing with his saliva, and pooling on the floor in front of him. Great, now his lungs were pierced. Dean struggled to breath through the blood clogging up his airway. His vision was disappearing pretty quickly too.

All of a sudden, a bright light filled the room. The demons shrieked in pain. Dean tried to look up but it was like staring into the sun. It blinded him but he couldn’t take his eyes away. A figure was moving across the room rapidly, dodging blows at an alarmingly fast pace that no human could achieve. Smoke filled the room as the demons tried to flee, but whatever the hell was killing them had had enough. In one last effort, the room lit up like a white star and it was over.  
The room returned back to its original gloominess and dirty walls. The smoke was gone and so were the bodies they’d possessed. Dean didn’t bother questioning where they went.

It had to be an angel. The bright light, the strength to kill so many demons at once. Dean only knew a bunch of angels and Castiel was definitely able to use that kind of power. It didn’t look like Cas though.   
Whoever it was had their back to him, but they weren’t wearing a trench coat or had a mop of black hair. Instead, it was golden and slicked back and when the stranger turned, face twisted with worry, it finally clicked in Dean’s mind.

Gabriel.

The Trickster had finally come to rescue his damsel in distress. He sank to his knees and immediately set his cool hands on either side of Dean’s head.   
An ice cold feeling rushed through him, like a refreshing stream in the middle of summer. But it was also warm too, like the sun shining down on him in the evening, somewhat cold enough to bring goosebumps but not shivers.   
It crashed down on him in slow, languid waves and Dean felt the pain ease away, felt his bones restore themselves and the blood to seep away, letting him breath correctly again. He’d felt it before. Long ago. Maybe Cas had done it. Yes, he’d healed Dean. That meant the power coursing through his shattered body was an angel’s grace.

After what felt like ages, strong arms wrapped around Dean’s barely conscious frame. He felt the warmth radiating off Gabriel and the steady heartbeat lulled him gently to sleep. The flutter of wings could be heard very close by, almost coming from Gabriel himself, but it was over as soon as it started.  
Opening one bleary eye, Dean noticed they weren’t in that dark room anymore. The walls were stripped and as Gabriel set him down on the bed, the familiar scent calmed his mind within an instant.

He was home. At least what was meant to be his home in Gabriel’s fantasy land. But the soft sheets and the smell of Sam’s body spray and Gabriel’s cologne were too distracting for him to focus on anything else.

He felt a warm body press against his naked back. When had he been stripped? An arm hovered slightly over his side, almost afraid to touch in case he hurt Dean, but eventually the arm wrapped around him tightly, pressing him back into the warm, toned chest. He barely heard the ‘I’m sorry’ whispered almost silently into his hair and after that, Dean drifted off, dreaming of his strange husband and the sensation of grace healing his broken body. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll give a cookie to anyone who finds the Far Cry 3 quote in this :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback time! A further look into Dean and Gabriel's relationship.

The breeze flowing through the open window ruffled Dean’s hair. The strands stubbornly moved across his forehead, some reaching down to tickle his nose. With a sleepy groan, he brushed the hair away with a heavy hand. He tried to get more comfortable but the rest of the large bed was cold and the sudden change of temperature was enough to rouse Dean. His eyes cracked open a little, enough to keep the bright sun rays from hurting him. Eventually his body caught up with his now-awake mind and with stiff movements, Dean managed to sit up in the plush bed.  
He propped himself up against the headboard and winced when his legs ached. His body felt heavy, like it was made of lead, and Dean couldn’t find the energy to do much more than glance to his right.

A glass of water sat on the bedside table, along with a small note. Dean took long gulps before placing the glass down and reaching to pick up the neatly written card.

 

_Just give me a little prayer and I’ll come - G_

 

Without warning, his mind flashed back to the previous night. He remembered being crushed to near-death, he felt his bones give in to the relentless pressure as the demons flattened him to the ground. He saw someone standing in front of him, like a shield. They started glowing until the room was unbearably bright, killing the demons without mercy.   
Dean knew what had saved him. An angel. _Gabriel was an angel_.

Ice cold fear spiked through his entire being and Dean immediately ripped off the covers and ran into the bathroom. Gripping the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned white, Dean watched his own reflection blink back at him. Dark circles under his eyes, rough stubble, chapped lips.   
How long had he been asleep?

Dean struggled to remove his clothes with stiff movements but after a few minutes, his clothes were in a pile on the tiled floor. Paying closer attention to his body than he ever remembered doing, Dean examined himself for any angel marks. Aside from Cas’ handprint burnt into his shoulder, Gabriel had left no trace.

Maybe he was over-thinking all of this. Maybe the Trickster was able to kill demons and was able to heal Dean, he didn’t have to be an angel! The thought gnawed on his mind and Dean kept rewatching the scene.  
The light, the cold touch of grace, Gabriel’s terrified expression when he finally turned to Dean, the note telling Dean to pray… It was too much.  
Dean barely had time to register what was happening before he fell to his knees, leaning forward on the toilet seat and vomited. He expected blood but nothing came up aside from the water he’d drunk. He continued to dry-heave for a few minutes.

Dean took a long shower, thanking his current life for having unlimited hot water. He almost wanted to take a bath but his father had always called them ‘girly’. His father’s voice rang in his head, taking Dean by surprise.   
When was the last time he’d even thought about dad? Great, now he felt guilty and confused. Fuck knows what John would have said about Dean’s situation.

John would have probably torn Castiel a new one for even trying to drag his sons into the apocalypse, let alone Gabriel…

   
Dean turned the taps off and dried himself off. He shoved his dirty clothes in the hamper basket and went into the bedroom. It was so cosy and Dean had stopped feeling uncomfortable after the first few days, preferring to push his overbearing masculinity aside so he could enjoy his vacation. That’s what he called this. A vacation. Just a break from everything.Vacations probably shouldn’t have included death by demon mojo but then again, _Winchester_.

He took one long look at the note on the bedside table and elected to grab himself some breakfast before even attempting to talk to Gabriel. Dressing quickly and grabbing the keys to the Impala, Dean made his way down into the garage, checking the house first for his brother.

When Sam was nowhere to be found, probably at court or his skyscraper corner office, Dean left a roughly scribbled note informing his husbands he was heading to the local diner.

The best things about his temporary life here included his freedom. Gabriel didn’t restrict Dean at all, he even let him drive to neighbouring states. It didn’t seem like there was an invisible barrier.

 

* * *

 

 

**FLASHBACK**

 

The Impala purred underneath the hunter, twisting gracefully through the country roads of New Hampshire. Trees arched over the road, creating strange, complex shadows on the worn out asphalt. The sunlight filtered through the orange and red leaves, creating a fiery canopy above the shining black and chrome vintage beauty.

It may have seemed like a calm and peaceful Tuesday, but Dean was fuming. Hours earlier, Sam had received a phone call and a request to fly over to Washington and he’d packed his suitcase without hesitation, never mind the fact that he’d promised to keep Dean company that day.   
Sure, Dean felt like a whining bitch when he’d shouted at Sam for breaking his promise, but it wasn’t his neediness that bothered him. No, it was that Sam had completely dismissed his older brother, pushing past him to get to the taxi outside, just for a chance to work a case. And not a good, old-fashioned hunt, no, just a rich old lady that was framed of fraud thirty years ago.

He’d wanted to speak to his brother about their second husband and how five days prior, Dean was getting mauled by a giant dog in a building and now he was living the perfect, idyllic life Sam had always dreamed of. Plus he’d noticed Sam’s memories were hazy when it came to how they’d come to a truce with Gabriel.

Drumming his fingers angrily to the beat of ‘Thunderstruck’, Dean barely paid attention to where he was driving. The trees got thicker and gathered closer along the road, until it turned into a dirt track, barely used anymore judging from the overgrown grass.

Eventually the road ended near a river, so Dean turned the engine off and got out, ready for a hunt, except there wasn’t one and Dean didn’t know how to vent off without one.   
He took long, deep breaths like he’d seen Sam do when he was stressed or having a panic attack. His adrenaline died down to a normal level and Dean was finally able to clear his head without pumping lead into some unfortunate creature. No wonder Winchesters were feared, they shot first and asked questions later.

 

Finally taking in his surroundings, Dean realised he’d just gotten away from Gabriel without being stopped. Either the Trickster knew he’d left and didn’t mind, or he’d just slipped past. Dean opted to believe the latter and locked up his car after taking a rucksack with him.   
It was almost never used but it was more comfortable to carry when hiking, which was exactly what Dean was planning on doing. The landscape was too beautiful to not explore. The contents were some energy bars, a water bottle, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and some hunting gear. His pistol was strapped safely to his hip.

The hike took several hours, where Dean learnt that it was best to stick to the trail when it came to mountainous terrain. Branches whipped him in the wind and brambles caught on his jeans, plus several bugs had already bit at his exposed arms without mercy. Tired and oddly calm, Dean sat down on a protruding rock at the top of a steep hill.

The view was breathtaking. Trees covered most of the area on his left and the loud babble of a nearby stream could be heard over the chirps of various birds. At one point, a deer stepped out of a bush, startling Dean. It kept approaching, though, until its head was less than a metre away from Dean’s knee.  
The hunter kept very still, hoping not to startle the frail creature but a pigeon did just that. It cooed loudly, flapping its wings and knocking a loose branch to the floor with a muted ‘thump’. The deer raised its head, alarmed, and bolted away into another bush, never to be seen again.

Dean flipped the pigeon off and started to head back to his car. Thankfully, it was still in one piece when he got there. Deciding to push his luck, Dean drove out further, to Maine. Once he got there and still caught no sight of Gabriel, Dean drove up all the way to the Canadian border. He stayed three nights in a motel, expecting the Trickster to show up at any moment.

The bar he’d decided to visit was full each night and a lot of girls winked and flirted at him throughout the nights. Only, Dean just couldn’t flirt back. The weight of the gold ring seemed to have increased on his finger, and just the thought of Sam was enough to thank the bartender and leave.

On the fourth day, he drove back to New Hampshire and took the longest route possible. He finally pulled up to the house and parked the Impala in the garage. Sam’s car were still there, but his brother was still in Washington. Dean had taken his phone with him, but Sam hadn’t left any messages so that meant he was alright, or just busy with his court case.   
Gabriel’s Mustang was missing, though.

The house was silent apart from the rhythmic ticking of the hallway clock. Dean went through to the kitchen to grab a beer and walked outside onto the front porch. The sun began to set when he heard the rumble of the Mustang from across the street. Gabriel smoothly parked in between the two other cars through the open garage doors, and climbed out, making a beeline for the hunter.

“Where the hell have you been?” He demanded, his hands planted firmly on his hips and glaring up at Dean with seething, golden eyes. Damn, Gabriel was beautiful in the sunset… Dean thought.

“Flattery will get you nowhere this time, Dean Winchester. Now answer my question.” Dean struggled for a moment when Gabriel read his mind. Since when could he do that?

“I needed a change of scenery,” he shrugged off. “It was getting too much here.”

  
“So you just decided to leave without warning? I waited for you all day!”

“It’s your illusion. You know where I was the whole time so don’t go pretending because Sam isn’t here to buy your crap.” Dean said, sternly, arms crossed over his chest and towering over Gabriel in a feeble attempt to scare him off.

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. I’m not some crazy housewife that tracks her husband’s car!”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Dean wasn’t prepared for the punch. One second he’s glaring smugly at the Trickster, the next he’s stumbling back, cradling his jaw, which ached for the impressively powerful blow. He glanced back up at Gabriel and from the way his body was shaking with anger, maybe he hadn’t known where Dean had gone.   
_As if he even gives a shit. I’m just some playtoy to him_ , Dean thought.

Hurt flashed across Gabriel’s eyes almost too quickly for Dean to notice, but the Trickster had walked into the house and slammed the front door before Dean even had the thought to say sorry. The house remained silent for a whole week after that.

Even though the house had many bedrooms which would’ve suited the hunter just fine, Dean felt like he had to sleep on the couch. He couldn’t face Gabriel, let alone climb back into his husband’s bed, so the couch suited him just fine.

He mulled over what Gabriel had said and the weird behaviour he’d shown since Dean had gone off the map almost two weeks prior. Did Gabriel even care for Dean?  
When he’d fucked with Sam’s heart, it had been cruel and merciless, but if he’d wanted to hurt Dean, Gabriel could have done a thousand things _other_ than buy an expensive house in a gorgeous state. Add the whole three-way marriage into the deal and Dean was lost. This was Sam’s dream life. Lawyer, big house, caring partner, no more hunting - let alone being allowed to _marry_ his own brother. It was paradise for Sam when Dean’s idea of perfect was a cool beer and a good hunt.  
He was simple like that.

 

Gabriel seemed to be trying to show him a different future. What would happen if Dean quit hunting and settled down. Yet Dean was too far gone. He knew that, Sam knew that, hell even the angels knew it too and they were using it to their advantage. Dean couldn’t accept this as anything more than just a trick. A way for Gabriel to have fun and mess around with their lives as if they didn’t matter.

There was always the possibility that this was Gabriel’s way of telling Dean what he wanted. Maybe there was more to the Trickster than Dean already knew. Surrounding yourself with fake people and illusions was a lonely way to live. And since he already had such an interest in Sam and Dean’s lives, why not become a part of it?  
The Trickster had manipulated Sam’s memories to make him fall in love with Gabriel but since this was Dean’s fantasy, he couldn’t twist his memories, so Dean was stuck with his real past and thoughts.

Gabriel was just lonely then. He wanted to feel loved and appreciated and the only way he could manage that was to place the hunters in a dream world where all their problems were non-existent and they had everything they could wish for.   
With that realisation, Dean sprinted up the stairs and along the corridor to his left. He passed several open doors before coming to a stop at the end of the stretch.

Sighing, Dean raised a hand to knock on the white and intricately carved wooden door. A few moments passed before the door opened partly and Gabriel peeked out.

Dean hadn’t seen his husband for an entire week and he almost didn’t recognise the short man peering up at him through tired eyes. He hadn’t bothered to shave and his hair was mussed from repeatedly tugging at the strands in aggravation.

“What do you want, Dean?” His voice was gruff and he’d probably hadn’t used it all week.

Before Dean could further embarrass himself by just standing there staring, he said, “Can I come in?”

Gabriel moved aside and turned his back to Dean, plopping down onto his spinning chair. He spun gently from side to side, tiptoes brushing the floor as he swayed.  
Looking up at Dean expectantly, he gestured at the other chair in the room that wasn’t covered in art books and loose paper. His desk was probably the neatest part of the room. The large graphics tablet and monitor displayed his latest piece - a mermaid with long, flowing locks that was in the process of drowning its victim. 

This was Gabriel's office and where he spent most of his time, sketching and manipulating images for the companies that hired him. Dean hadn't been in there often, but he'd taken his time to admire the art fixed to the wall in frames and the large wall on the opposite side of the room covered in notes, dates and small sketches. Most of his commissions were for video games or sci-fi films, even ones Dean was a big fan of. His work tended to stick to monsters and fantasy creatures like the blue sea dragon painted in watercolour which hung in their bedroom.  

Dean sat down precariously, avoiding the mess on the floor as much as possible. The last thing he wanted was to piss off the Trickster even further. He braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole.” He mumbled, glancing uncertainly up at Gabriel. From his position, the Trickster was able to look down at him, and the passive, almost bored look wasn’t helping Dean to speak properly.

“Why do I feel like you’ve come to some amazing conclusion?” Hell, he even _sounded_ bored.

“I think I know why you’re doing this.”

“It’s my job. I’m an artist, remember?” Gabriel spoke with a flat tone, but Dean could see the amusement glinting in his husband’s golden eyes. Okay, maybe he wasn’t _that_ angry with Dean.

“I meant all of this.” The hunter extended his arms, gesturing widely to the whole house and the strange situation he was in. Gabriel cocked his head, listening.  
“You’re lonely and you want us to keep you company, right?”

Insecurity and hurt flashed in the Trickster’s eyes for a brief moment but he kept quiet, wanting the hunter to finish.

“I kinda get it. I mean, you seem to be fascinated with us and this was the only way you could get us together without causing too many problems. How am I doing so far?”

Gabriel briefly nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, no longer swaying on it but sitting stock-still. He didn’t say anything but Dean knew he’d struck the nail.   
Gabriel cleared his throat before speaking.

“You’re right, actually. 10 points to Hufflepuff.”

“Please, I’d be Gryffindor and you know it.” Dean chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Tell me, how is this working, exactly?”

“What do you mean?”

“This whole illusion… are we in some time bubble or the future or what? Because if this was still 2009, we’d be hunting down Lilith with Cas, and the angels would’ve caught onto you.”

“Trust me, the angels don’t know shit. And you are, once more, correct. I guess the simplest way to explain it would be a time bubble. The whole world out there is on pause, at least all the angel crap is. The people here are still themselves but have some memories implanted. Like the five year gap we’ve been living here for. Obviously, that’s never happened but it just helps when no one’s asking any questions.” He gave Dean a pointed look.  
“It’s hard to explain but what you should take away from this, is that the time here is limitless. You could live up to your muerte here. Imagine that, living until you’re old.”

“Never thought about it.” Dean admitted. He surely never thought he’d live up to Bobby’s age, and since the old hunter wasn’t a role model for ageing gracefully, Dean had put that thought behind him. It was a nice idea, though. Seeing himself and Sam grow old, having actual grey hairs that weren’t from stress.

“Well you can have it all, hubby. Just gotta be sure you want it first. Because this may not seem tiring, but it is. Well, sometimes. Like you disappearing to God knows where and having to extend my reach.”

“Do you know where I was?”

“No. I couldn’t track you down. Look, I get it, you need space, blah blah blah. But please, please, just tell me if you’re gonna leave town. I have this whole place under my thumb and that’s effortless for me, but leaving for four days across the states, that’s tiring as fuck.”

“I wanted to know if I could escape you.” Dean said. Everything was coming out now and there was no point hiding his true motive anymore. Gabriel sighed deeply.

“You’re not a prisoner here, Dean. If you honestly want to leave, of course I’m going to let you, but just know that if I do, there’s no going back. I don’t think you understand the risks I’m taking here.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

“True, but that means that you can’t ever come back here. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal here. If I stop this and you and Sammy go back, there’s no way the angels will let me get away with it again.”

“How exactly are you tricking them?”

“Like I said, this is a time bubble. Outside of this town, it’s still 2009. They don’t know you’re gone and they can't find out.”

“One hell of a risk, if you ask me…”

“It’s worth it to me.” Gabriel answered honestly, watching Dean with sad, tired eyes but inwardly grateful to finally tell him the truth. He was good at keeping secrets but it hurt to lie to Dean every day.

“So what’s it going to be, Dean? Will you stay here a bit longer, or have you had enough?” He asked, sitting back in his spinning chair but remaining still. He wanted Dean to stay, but if the hunter didn’t want it, he couldn’t break his promise.

Dean contemplated his answer for a few minutes. It was a difficult choice for him.  
Option A was a perfect life with his husbands and staying until he grew old with his brother was something no other being could ever grant him. There was always something hunting them, or vice versa and a hunter was never safe, not even after retirement. Rufus and Bobby were proof of that.

But Gabriel was offering him just that. _Safety_.

Option B was to go back and face the Apocalypse head on and probably die at some point in the near future. There was only so much resurrection he could deal with before Dean finally laid down.

When Dean fully considered his options, it was obvious which was better. He was safe with Gabriel and he had everything he ever wanted and more.  
The Apocalypse could wait. Dean wanted to live first.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I'm doing GISHWHES for the first time this year, and it's been a bit hectic!

PRESENT

Only a handful of locals were sat at the Two Whales Diner this late in the morning. Dean recognised an old man from his work, when he’d brought in a Cadillac for a MOT. The guy was dressed modestly but the hunter knew he was loaded. Then again, so was Dean now.

He sat down in a booth along the window, making sure to have sight of the main doors and kitchen. The waitress sauntered over with a charming smile, but Dean wasn’t in the mood to flirt. He ordered a bacon burger and black coffee, not returning her fake, wide smile. Rubbing at his eyes absentmindedly, Dean tried to make sense of his new dilemma.

Gabriel hadn’t showed up to stop him leaving the house and the hunter hadn’t bothered to call for him either.

Dean tried to piece together the puzzle that was his husband but he just couldn’t find what he was looking for. If Gabriel was an angel as well as a Trickster, he was limitless. Were the Winchesters that _amazing_ that angels flocked to meet them? It sure seemed like it.

The waitress arrived with his food, no longer smiling though. He’d tip her to apologise. Dean dug into his food, greedily, not sure when he last ate. Surely Gabriel had looked after him, but where was Sam? Did he have another trip upstate? Knowing that his questions would go unanswered unless he called on Gabriel, Dean summoned his courage and tried to think of how he’d go about it.

Putting down his burger onto the warmed plate, Dean wiped his hands on a napkin before looking around the diner. The remaining occupants were busy chatting or reading the newspaper to bother looking his way.

The hunter steepled his hands together and closed his eyes, focusing his mind on Gabriel. In a hushed tone he said,  
“Gabe, if you can hear, I’d really like to talk to you. I’m at the diner.”

Dean opened his eyes and immediately jumped back into the bench, eyes wide and heart beating fast. Gabriel watching him with a Cheshire grin, eyes glinting with mischief.

“You called?” He asked, taking a french fry from Dean’s plate and popping it into his mouth. Dean looked around wildly, expecting the locals to be wide-eyed and scared but they seemed too preoccupied. “They don’t see us right now. I figured you might want some privacy.”

“Right. Thanks. Listen, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

Dean paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully.

“Are you an angel?”

Gabriel didn’t move, french fry in mid-air. He sucked in a sharp breath before groaning and leaning back in his bench. He ate the fry and closed his eyes, groaning even louder and longer this time. He finally cracked open one eye, visible under his hands as he cupped his face.

“What did you see?” He asked, voice muffled behind his hands but clear enough for Dean to hear and contemplate.

“There was a bright light, demons died, and when you healed me, I felt your grace.” This time, Gabriel sat up sharply, attention focused solely on Dean.

“You felt my grace?”

“Yeah, you touched me and all of a sudden, this cold feeling went through me. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was soothing… God, that sounds cheesy.”

“A little, yeah.” Gabriel laughed. “How do you know it was grace? I’m a Trickster, remember? Tons of secret powers you don’t know about.” He winked.

“Castiel healed me once and it felt almost the same.”

“Almost?”

“Yours seemed stronger, like an actual force flowing through me. Cas’ felt different, like cold air compared to cold water. D’you get what I mean?”

“Uh huh. Well, see, um, I’m not exactly sure how you’re going to react to this. I’m hoping it’s not too violent…”

“ _Gabriel_.”

“I’m an archangel.” He said, hiding his face behind his hands again like a child afraid of rejection. Maybe he was afraid.

“You? You’re one the most powerful beings ever? So, wait, that means Lucifer is your brother!”

“He’s the second eldest. There’s Michael, Luci, Raphael and me. It’s a long story really.”

“How exactly have you been hiding all the time?”

“Turns out being a Pagan God is pretty good protection. I’ve been here for millennia, Dean.”

The hunter leaned back in the booth, soaking up all the information and trying to make sense of it all. He glanced over at Gabriel, almost feeling guilty for stumbling onto his secret. Almost.

“Who else knows?”

“No one. I haven’t told a soul since I came here. I trust you with this, Dean. It’s not a light subject and I can’t have you running around telling anyone else.”

“And Sam? You want to keep him in the dark as well?”

“I guess not. But I’ll tell him, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone, even when you leave this illusion. I care for you very deeply, Dean, but I _will_ kill you if you jeopardise my situation. Now, promise me.”

Gabriel watching him carefully, his voice had dropped the childish tone and he now spoke with a more serious voice than Dean had ever heard. Dean glanced up at him, and nodded his head.

“I promise.”

The hunter carried on with his unhealthy breakfast, which Gabriel kindly kept warm the whole time and shared jokes whilst the rest of the diner occupants were completely oblivious to the human and archangel chatting behind them.

Gabriel decided to take Dean out into the mountains for a hike, though he smugly admitted it was an excuse to see the hunter struggle with the steep climbs. They walked for hours, chatting about music and films. When they eventually made it to the spot Dean had rested at a month or so ago, Dean sat down and stretched over the rock, relishing in the popping sounds his back and shoulders made.

“So my husband is an archangel. Didn’t see that coming.”

“Sounds like a bad sitcom.”

“You bet. So what was it like, Heaven?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Gabriel looked down at the hunter. He sat cross-legged on the rock whilst Dean merely lied on it like a housecat.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Dean smirked inwardly, knowing that Gabriel was unbelievably chatty when in a good mood.

“I wouldn’t know how to describe it… It was my home for so long. I just can’t…” Gabriel groaned.

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. It’s hard to talk about something you’ve lost.”

“It’s more than that. I didn’t really lose it. I left.” Dean sat up, wrapping a comforting arm around his husband’s waist and hoping he’d carry on speaking.

The idea that the person next to him was an archangel, and had never shown him any proof before… it was overwhelming. In a good way.

“Might as well tell you. If you hear it from my brothers, they’ll twist it in their own sick ways… I always looked up to Lucifer. He was like what you are to Sam; a role model and a super protective bro. Michael was very close to me too even though I was always pranking everyone and being stupid. But he was very close to Lucifer for a long time but things happened, _Heavenly things_ I can’t tell you, and my family had this huge falling out.  
“In fact, I don’t really remember it very well, unlike my brothers. Anyways, Luc and Mickey kept on fighting and made it hard for me to stay near them for very long. They wanted me to side with one of them, even if it meant casting the other out of Heaven.  
“So I ran. I left so I didn’t have to pick a side. I heard about Lucifer and how he fell but I never imagined he’d plan all this out. You know, I don’t regret leaving. I couldn’t choose then, and I still can’t now. It’s been so hard to listen to the other angels for centuries now. All they yap about is either killing Luc or joining his army.” 

Gabriel tried to keep his voice even but he couldn’t help the small, inaudible sob escaping when he thought of his brothers. He hadn’t seen them in so long, let alone spoken about them. It was like a millennia of bottled-up emotions crashing down on him at once.   
He didn’t exactly want to cry in front of Dean but when the hunter held him tight against his chest, he did just that. Tears flowed freely and Gabriel whimpered against the soft fabric of Dean’s shirt. The hunter didn’t complain when his husband broke down, instead he held him tighter and ran a hand through his hair, scratching gently into his scalp in soothing motions. Dean couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain and anguish the archangel felt, but he knew what losing his brother was like. It was one of the worst things Dean had experienced, maybe even worse than losing his mother and father.

He couldn't relate, though, when it came to choosing a side, since he’d often followed his father and left his little brother alone and scared. God knows what would’ve happened if Gabriel had chosen a side. Where was God anyways? How could he let his children fight like that until there was nothing left of their family?  
If he ever met the bastard, Dean would punch him square in the face. Repeatedly.

Without a glance down, Dean knew Gabriel was still crying. He didn’t make any noise apart from the broken sobs he occasionally let out. All Dean could do was hold him and try to help the archangel out, and Dean didn’t feel like that was enough but right there, right then, it was enough for Gabriel.

At first, the ice cold touch made him jump but it seemed to warm up as it touched his mind, giving Dean the impression of a warm and soft blanket enveloping him. It made him a little sleepy.Then the words rang through his head.

 _Thank you_.

It sounded like Gabriel, except softer, without the cheery upbeat tone he usually sported or the serious, almost desperate voice he’d used when describing his family. Gabriel sat up again, still leaning on Dean but without his head buried in the crook of his husband’s neck. He tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.  
Dean turned to him, capturing the archangel’s lips in a slow, languid kiss. Gabriel sucked and teased Dean’s tongue with his own, deepening the kiss and moaning earnestly against his mouth. Dean pulled back to press a softer and gentler kiss to Gabriel’s lips before pulling the archangel head back against his chest.  
Dean’s heartbeat thrummed in his ear, lulling him into a deep state of relaxation.  
He barely felt Dean carried him the entire two-hour walk back to the Impala.

He vaguely heard her engine purr to life, almost caringly quieter than usual as to not rouse the archangel. Dean brought him home, and into their shared bed where Sam was sleeping. Gabriel had sent him to another part of town whilst he had dealt with the battered hunter. He would never tell Dean he’d been in a week long coma after being rescued.

Two warm bodies shuffled closer, sandwiching him in the middle of the king size bed. Arms wrapped around his sleepy frame, pulling him even closer, nuzzling into his hair and holding him to their chests. Surrounded by his two loving husbands, Gabriel fell asleep. Even with the memories of his brothers crawling in the back of his mind, he had never felt so at peace and as loved.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cookies for anyone who spotted the reference in the first part :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy starts to get suspicious.

Whilst Dean’s reaction had been mild, even calm, concerning the truth about Gabriel, Sam’s was the exact opposite. The following morning, after a restful sleep, the archangel had taken Sam aside and spoken for a long time, guiding him through all the information as to not overload him. Gabriel told him about his family and casually missed out some details that the brothers weren’t ready to hear just yet. When he’d leaned back, waiting for Sam to process his words, Gabriel’d figured his little chat had gone rather well. Sam hadn’t spoken much. Okay, he had been entirely silent with his mouth open for the whole time. But that wasn’t bad, right? Wrong.

Sam exploded in a fury of impressively creative curses and pushed past Gabriel roughly, to reach his brother. He interrogated Dean crudely, satisfied to learn that Dean had only found out the day before.

It wasn’t just the whole archangel deal that Sam was struggling to understand. Sure, it was _mind-blowing_. Gabriel wasn’t just a pagan god, he was one of the strongest, most powerful beings to ever exist. He was the son of God… Sam couldn’t even begin to piece that together, considering that angels were stuck-up dicks with wings. He’d always assumed angels were benevolent and perfect but ever since meeting Cas and Uriel, hell, even Anna, Sam’s views had changed completely.  
Uriel hated humans. Anna no longer wanted to obey God. Even Cas was beginning to doubt himself and God’s orders.  
Now he was supposed to believe that this perverted, sugar-crazed, maniac was an archangel? Wait, Gabriel was his husband… why was he _insulting_ him?

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Sam took long, deep breaths. So Gabriel was an archangel who left Heaven and hid under the persona of a pagan god.   
It kinda made sense but how could Gabriel, with his morbid sense of humour and filthy, depraved mind, be one of God’s first creations? Then again, Lucifer was fucked up in his own way. Sam had yet to meet the other two archangels but hopefully, they weren’t too messed up as well. Though, he hadn’t seen Cas, or even talked about angels for five years… Strange. It didn’t feel like that long ago… Could it have already been five years?

That didn’t make sense. Neither did the need to leave for a week without checking in on Dean. He’d known that Dean had gone demon hunting, and come back the next day. Gabriel had refused to let Sam look at him, or even step into the room at all.

If he’d been hurt, surely he’d be showing signs instead of acting like usual, like everything was normal… Dean whined and bitched when he was hurt. Unless Gabriel had healed him with his grace. Sam knew angels could do that, let alone archangels.  
How badly had Dean been hurt?

  
Sam decided to write down his thoughts into a small, green notebook. He wrote about Dean’s injuries and being pushed away when his brother needed him, even the strange lack of memories when it came to accepting Gabriel as an equal rather than an enemy.  Sure, people forgot things like that, but in Sam’s experience, he would never _forget_ something so important. Plus the five year gap seemed too excessive. Without doubt, there was a problem here. Problems. Was Gabriel behind this?

Deciding to keep writing in the notebook for now until he got some real answers, Sam hid it in the panic room, under a pile of magazines by the master bed. No one would find it there.

 

The next few days were spent watching Dean and Gabriel interact with each other. Dean had certainly gotten over his issues with his husband in the last two months and the two seemed closer than ever. It seemed odd at first, considering Dean’s outburst that morning and threatening Gabriel, pining him to the wall. He’d seen it before, years ago when they’d caught onto Gabriel’s tricks at the Mystery spot.

He remembered the anger flowing through him when they finally cornered him, wanting to sink that stake through his neck, to watch the life fade from the Trickster’s eyes. Gabriel had carried on talking smugly, not really caring about dying and he probably hadn’t been, now that Sam thought about it.   
A wooden stake surely couldn’t kill an archangel.

The painful memory of his brother’s countless deaths still lingered in the back of his mind, tearing him up from the inside when Sam least expected it. He’d tried so hard to save Dean and when, finally, Gabriel had given in to his constant begging, it had felt like a victory. They mutually agreed to part ways up until the trickster had started causing up trouble the closer they got to freeing Lucifer, like he was trying to distract them.

No, that can’t be right. Gabriel and Dean were his husbands. Yet when could he have possibly found the time to even propose? When did they get together in the first place? They were trying to kill Lilith and Lucifer was so close to being freed from his cage. There was no time for romance. Except for Ruby.

Sam glanced up at his husbands laughing along to the movie playing in the background. He sat on the couch, Gabriel pressed up between Dean and himself. The archangel was too busy to notice the odd look Sam gave Dean. His older brother held his eye for a moment before turning his attention back to the movie, wrapping a protective arm around the archangel’s narrow shoulders and pulling him closer, away from Sam.

 

* * *

 

  
The more Sam looked into his memories, the more inconsistencies he found. It wasn’t as though he could just bring them up in conversation either. He didn’t want Gabriel to get suspicious.

After returning home late from work one day, the younger Winchester seeked out his older brother, finding him underneath the Impala. Clearing his throat as he sat on the floor beside Dean’s visible legs, he uncapped a beer from the cooler by the workbench and passed one to his brother. With a grunt, Dean pulled himself out from under the car and accepted the beer with a soft kiss on Sam’s cheek.

  
“You alright, Sammy?” He asked nonchalantly, completely unaware of the unyielding mess of worry and conflicting thoughts that haunted Sam for weeks now.

“Dean, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you remember that morning you freaked out and tried to hurt Gabriel?”

Dean gave him an odd look, before shrugging and drinking from the expensive craft beer they could now easily afford. It was so much better than their usual crap.

“Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

“What happened to you before? You said you were being attacked and woke up here.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Just answer the question, Dean.”

“Fine, fine. Uh, I was hunting down the Trickster and this massive dog-like thing chased me through the streets. I ran into a building and went up to the top floor. Thought I got away but it crawled up after me, tackled me before I could get away, and it pushed me through a window. I managed to land on it but everything went dark. Next moment, I’m lying in bed with you guys. Look, Sammy, it was just a nightmare, okay?”

Sam nodded, entirely unconvinced but Dean couldn’t be pressed any further without resulting in a fight. They sat together in silence, sipping beer and unwinding after a long day.

Dean kept throwing nervous glances at his younger brother. Since the last months had been progressively weirder and yet gotten more amazing by each passing day, the hunter was starting to really enjoy his place in the fantasy world the archangel had created. It wasn’t everyday that God’s most powerful being had a crush on a human, let alone a broken and shattered man like Dean. But he was grateful, each and every day for being given this gift.  
With all the wrong in their world, Dean was convinced this was perfectly okay for the Winchesters to finally cut loose and enjoy themselves without the constant fear of being hunted down by demons or angels.

So when Sam was acting all suspicious and taking interest in something he’d previously discarded, Dean worried. If Sam was breaking free of Gabriel’s hold, that meant a high chance of losing this. Gabriel had agreed to let Dean out at any point, and he’d surely do the same for Sam.  
Maybe Dean was just over thinking this. Sam was probably behaving strangely because of Dean’s recent hunt. He was just looking out for his older brother, that’s all. Satisfied with that answer, Dean turned back to his Baby, ready to resume his work.

The Impala had been making strange noises when he’d taken her to the diner, so Dean had taken her apart to find the problem. Some of the wires had worn out, exposing the metal cables inside. He called on Gabriel and the archangel had snapped his fingers, replacing the useless wires with a smile, which had led to amazing sex on the hood of the car. Dean felt positively sore and his cock twitched when he imagined Sam spread out over the hood, legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into his brother. He pictured Sam, mouth agape and moaning like an expensive whore, when Dean hit his sweet spot repeatedly without mercy, rolling his hips down into the younger male.

Just as he was about to propose the idea to Sammy, Gabriel walked in holding a small, green book. Dean didn’t recognise and figured it was one of his sketchbooks, but when Sam jumped up abruptly and tried to grab the book off the archangel, his interest was piqued.

 

Gabriel was much shorter than Sam, his head barely reaching the middle of Sam's chest. It was almost comical the way the archangel tried to keep it from Sam’s outstretched hands, holding above him as though the younger Winchester couldn’t reach. Sam managed to grab hold of the small book when Gabriel snapped his fingers, disappearing for a split second and reappearing on the other side of the Impala.

Dean stood up with a groan, still sore, and pressed his hands into his brother’s chest, as Sam tried to lunge at the archangel. He pushed Sam back with a glare, turning his head to face Gabriel once he was sure Sammy wouldn’t try anything. He waited for an explanation but Gabriel just stood there, face expressionless as he watched Sam clench his fists and ready himself for the inevitable fight.

“Alright, what the hell is going on here?” Instead of a verbal answer, Gabriel smacked the book down into Dean’s open palm with more harshness than he meant to.

With raised eyebrows, Dean opened the book, skimming through the first blank pages until he fell upon Sam’s notes. As he read further down the page, his brow furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger.  
 _Sam was breaking Gabriel’s hold._  
He gripped the book tighter, forcing himself to read every single extract and pushing down the flare of anger and worry that sparked through him. When Dean finished, He calmly closed the book and set it down on the work bench. He’d barely pulled his fingers away before Sam rushed to grab it, cradling it against his chest with both hands.

“Dean, I want to know what is going on here. My memories… they aren’t real, are they?” Sam asked with a pitifully small voice, eyes tearing up at the corners as he sucked in a sharp breath. He didn’t want to cry. It was just too much.

“I think we better sit down somewhere else for this.” Dean said, coolly, already pushing past his brother a bit too roughly and stepping out of the garage and into the hallway.  
They followed him into the kitchen, where he prepared whiskey for all three of them. Lord knows this wasn’t a conversation to be had sober. They sat at the large oak table, both Sam and Gabriel sitting as far apart as possible around the circular table, which really wasn’t that far.

Thanking Dean for his drink, Gabriel knocked it back without a thought, replenishing his glass and repeating the action again. Once he’d settled, the archangel glanced up at Sam, not wanting to have this conversation at all. He hadn’t noticed Sam was slipping between his fingers like sand until it was too late. He’d felt the distress coming from the younger brother in waves, and had explored his mind until the book had shown up. Gabriel hadn’t expected Sam to be so strong.

“Sam, everything you’ve written down is true. Those aren’t your real memories.”

“Did you know this, Dean?” Sam asked with a small voice, barely audible. His brother sipped at his drink and gave a short nod, not finding the right words in his mind to talk about this. How could he? He’d lied to Sam for two months and felt good about it.

“Alright, I’m guessing Dean here isn’t up for talking, so I'm just gonna have to do my best to explain all this, okay?” When Sam meekly nodded, he continued.

“None of us are married. Also, five years haven’t passed, only two months, since Dean-o arrived here abruptly. I’ve explained this to him, and he seemed to understand, so let me try with you. I created this little bubble in time, where out there, nothing is moving. It’s all frozen so there’s no chance of Cassie or anyone else getting wind of this. They don’t know what’s going on, because they don’t know what’s happening. So, you and Dean can live your entire lives here and never have to worry again.  
“Of course, that doesn’t mean you’re limited to only this town. Dean-o took an unforeseen trip up to the Canadian border a week after waking up here and I managed to keep him covered. That isn’t a green light for you to go running off, though. If you want to go somewhere, even with out me or your brother, you’ll have to tell me. I’ll open up the time bubble and where ever you are in the world, it’s unfrozen and moving around. That’s why you can go to D.C without a hitch!”

Gabriel explained this as carefully as he could, hopefully Sam would be pleased with his answer and move on. Except as he watching the hunter gather his thoughts, he knew that wouldn’t suffice.

“Why are you doing this, Gabriel? What do you hope to gain from all of this?”

“Ugh, this isn’t exactly an easy answer, Sammy. But since you asked so nicely, I guess it’s ‘cause I want to spend as much time as I can with you guys before the Apocalypse showdown starts. That will definitely ruin my chances of seeing you guys.  
“Look, Sam, I really like you and Dean. I always have. It’s just that it’s not being exactly easy to reach out to you when I’ve been-”

“A dick?” Sam offered.

“Well, yeah. Look, I know you don’t like me and as much as it hurts to admit it, that’s okay. But I wanted to do something. It’s not like I’ll get any closer to you once Lucifer is up and kicking ass. This was the best I could do… I’m trying to give you everything you want just so I can spend time with you guys. It’s shitty and stupid, I know, but it’s all-”

Sam grabbed the front of his shirt roughly, pulling him up into a passionate kiss. Gabriel hesitated at first, unsure of Sam’s intentions, but when Sam’s tongue slipped past his parted lips, Gabriel forgot everything. He let the younger male dominate his mouth, letting him nip and tug at his lips, and sucked gently on his tongue, moaning into each other’s mouths.  
When they pulled apart for air, Sam’s eyes were dark with lust. He let Gabriel’s shirt go, rounding the table with impressive grace for someone his height and forcefully dragged the archangel upstairs, calling out for Dean when the hunter remained seated and confused.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, after three amazing rounds of mind-blowing sex, they lied back against the plush array of pillows, completely exhausted and sated.  
Dean was snuggled into Sam’s chest, pressing his head into the crook of his neck and wrapping a loose arm around his waist lazily. The brothers sighed contently in unison and the eldest drifted off to sleep easily.

  
Sam turned to Gabriel, who cuddled Dean from behind, spooning him comfortably to keep him from the cold air drifting through the window. He watched the archangel rub soothing circles into Dean’s chest. As though sensing the pair of eyes fixated on him, Gabriel lifted his head from the pillow, looking over Dean’s shoulder to match Sam’s gaze.

“I offered Dean an out. He can choose to leave whenever, but I cannot recreate this again. If you leave, it’s forever, and you’ll go back to where you were before I did this. So Sam, do you want to leave?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of their new lives together and a description of their home.

**Two years later**

  
“Dean! Gabriel! Hurry up or we’ll be late!” Sam yelled up the stairs for his two husbands. He heard Dean moan seductively and a muted thump, as Gabriel probably pushed him up against a wall in his dominating mood. He’d been like that recently; taking over in the bedroom, tying Sam and Dean up in handcuffs or bondage rope, teasing and playing with them until they begged him for release.

Finally, Dean jogged down the stairs a little too fast, almost tripping up on the last step. Sam fixed him with a look and strolled to his older brother, gently grabbing his chin and tilting his head up into a deep kiss. Just as Dean let out a moan, Gabriel walked past smacking Dean’s ass sharply. The sound caught in Dean’s throat, swallowed by Sam who moaned approvingly.

“Now, now, boys, aren’t we in a hurry?” Gabriel teased, thoroughly tempted to continue this upstairs.

“It’s your fault we’re running late.” Sam quipped, smirking at his husband before placing the keys of the Impala into Dean’s hand.

  
The Impala roared to life and settled into a comforting purr as they drove past the town’s border and further out onto open roads. They passed a few cars here and there, but the drive was relatively quiet except for the classic rock playing. Gabriel had added more music for Dean and Sam since he himself found the roadtrips tedious and boring, especially when listening the same five albums on repeat.

The archangel lounged in the back seat, fitting comfortably against the leather, whilst Sam sat shotgun. They’d voted to take Baby for this trip, since it was the family car and it wouldn’t mean as much to them to take the others. After a year or so, Sam had wanted to get another car, a classic that he could take out on long drives whilst he saved his Jaguar for work. Some research and bargaining later, Sam was the proud owner of a sleek emerald-green Dodge with black racing stripes.

Even if the house Gabriel had picked was immense, the garage couldn’t hold four cars since it barely held three as it was. The archangel’s car often slept outside because he feared scratching either of his husbands'. With careful planning, on Sam and Dean’s part, and a quick snap of fingers, Gabriel installed an underground garage that ran beneath the house and extended out under the garden and carefully joined up to the panic room.

It could easily fit over ten cars with room to manoeuvre, and since there was more than plenty of space, Gabriel opted to add a gorgeous red Camaro to the mix of colourful cars. The classic easily became his favourite very quickly after one test drive around the block. Since the town was pretty much theirs, Gabriel could alter the residents memories after all, Dean often raced the archangel, beating him a few times. He feared his husband might’ve cheated but he couldn’t complain all that much since Gabriel often had ‘pity’ sex with him for losing the race.

 

Aside from the garage, a lot had changed in two years aside from the addition of real photos, more furniture since Sam had a sexy habit of fucking them anywhere he could and there was only so much a dresser or table could take before it broke under their weight. Dean could catalogue almost every item and small detail of the house. Not that he needed to, but he felt proud of it.

The wooden porch was wide, spanning the length of the house, with intricately carved pillars. A decently sized staircase sat in the middle leading up the large white door with the frosted glass window built in. Since the house was painted a calm seafoam blue, the porch, windows and doors were an off-white. The garage was the same, on the right side.

Once inside, the house opened up to the living room, with its natural stone fireplace and wooden panelled walls. The carpeted staircase was pressed along the far wall, between the dining room and kitchen doors, leaving some of the railing exposed on the first floor as it made a L-turn, framing the edges of the first floor completely. The room had a cosy stone and wood theme, filled with plush, brown leather couches and expensive furniture that mixed glass, metal and wood to give the room a modern feel as well.

The right side of the house was the spare office, bathroom, and a door to the small garage entrance before it twisted under the house. All the doors were in a separate corridor which could only be accessed through the kitchen or next to the front door.

The kitchen was just across from the front door. Although Gabriel could snap his fingers and a feast would be laid out in front of them, they all preferred to take turn cooking. So the equipment was the best quality, carefully matching the warm cream, pale yellow and white palette. Dean had proven quite the decorator when he’d been asked to refurnish some of the rooms. That included the kitchen, which was filled with retro artwork and plaques, old fashioned appliances that Gabriel tweaked to work properly and of course, diner style benches for the table as well as a working jukebox. His husbands had been immensely proud of Dean for his hard work.

Sam had chosen everything for the living room. 

The dining room was adjacent, and furnished with an antique dining table that Gabriel had taken from a Victorian era auction, though he didn’t quite pay for it. More like: sneaked in, liked what he saw and snapped it back to their home without breaking a sweat.  
He’d taken it upon himself to add the crystal chandelier, china cabinet and other fancy antiquities to made the room look very expensive and posh. They only ever ate there to celebrate something big, like Sam’s promotions or Gabriel’s successful art commissions.

 

On the first floor, the corridor extended three ways, leading to several spare rooms. The corridor carried on straight from the stairs, a window overlooking the top of the garage at the end. More rooms and a bathroom continued on the left side of the corridor, whilst the master room and Gabriel’s office occupied the right.  
The second part of the L-shape of the railing didn’t lead to any doors, but offered a nice view above the living room.

Sam had decorated the master bedroom with his husbands’ help. The floral, cutesy, style wasn’t really working for them.  
Instead of relying on Gabriel’s powers, Sam had insisted on actually buying the right stuff and went on long trips across New Hampshire until they had everything needed.  
The younger Winchester had picked oak furniture and fitted the room with wooden panels, similar to the living room, with a fluffy cream rug underneath the bed. The room had a bit a native american twist to it, with patterned blankets and since the view exposed some of the surrounding forested hills, there was no need for picturesque photos, aside from their personal ones.

The rest of the house stayed the same after the six month long makeover. Only the garden had some work done, with more trees and the pond was taken away, when Dean complained it was too out of place. It had taken the men several months to get the house sorted, especially with Sam’s demand to actually go shopping, install the new appliances and paint the walls rather than having everything magically appear in front of them. Despite all the tiring work and stiff muscles, they’d all agreed that it was much better with the effort put in.

 

Dean snapped out of daydream, returning his attention to the new location in Massachusetts. They’d driven there several times but this would be the first time entering that side of the state. Another three hours passed, during which Sam had crawled into the backseat and eagerly made out with Gabriel, knowing they were teasing Dean to the point where he was ready to stop the car.

The Impala finally made it to the hospital on time, despite pulling over once for a quickie, but Gabriel snapped them clean before even nearing the car park.  
With a glance at the rear view mirror to check he still looked alright, Dean stepped out into the cold afternoon breeze. The cold tendrils of Autumn were just setting in, unsettled by the bright sunshine beaming down on them as they entered the large building.

Gabriel took over, speaking with the receptionist and sending her a disarming grin when she questioned the need for two other men. He gave her a small explanation, to which she blushed sweetly and nodded, pointing on her computer screen where they needed to go. He thanked her and beckoned his husbands to follow him.

Dean wouldn’t admit it for the world, but he’d never been so nervous in his life. Nothing could compare to this very moment: the long walk across the various wings, up two flights of stairs and into the calm, serene maternity ward. He glanced nervously at Sam, seeing the same anxiousness in his brother’s eyes. Except, Sam wasn’t his brother. Right there, right then, he was Sam Winchester, Dean’s loyal husband of seven years, at least on paper. Technically it was only two.

Gabriel led them into a quiet room, knocking politely before entering and walking in without a sound. He paused in the doorway, unable to move an inch, even as Sam and Dean followed. They couldn’t move either.

A young nurse was sat in the room, holding a three week old baby, rocking it gently as the baby slept in her arms. She looked up as the men entered and smiled at them, introducing herself with a hushed tone. She stood carefully, still smiling as she held out the baby.

The archangel was still frozen in place so Sam stepped up, least affected out of them but just as nervous. The nurse carefully placed the child in his arms, readjusting his stance slightly with sure movements.The child blinked awake, gurgling slightly as he looked up at Sam. His large blue eyes widened and he let out a small, happy noise.

When Dean finally shook himself out his stupor, he took his turn holding the happy child squirming in his arms. He turned to Gabriel, noting that the archangel was unable to move.

“Hey Gabe?” Dean asked, voice gentle and hushed. Gabriel looked up, uncertainly. “Would you like to hold our son?”

Gabriel nodded eagerly, barely able to register everything happening until he felt the weight of his adopted child in his arms. The child fell silent and the room’s occupants suddenly feared the child would cry or pull away from Gabriel. Instead, the child made a loud noise that resembled a laugh and tried to grip the archangel’s jacket as he giggled with wide eyes.

As Gabe and Dean took turns holding their son, Sam filled out all the necessary paperwork for the adoption of their baby. Eventually, after many tears were finally shed, they took their son home. Not wanting to drive all the way back, Gabriel snapped his fingers when they were out of sight and brought them home.  
The baby wasn’t scared from the sudden movement, instead he giggled happily and latched tightly onto Sam and didn’t let go until he was in his crib beside their bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my work. I've put so much effort into this and I love it so I hope  
> you enjoy it. Keep checking your emails for updates!


	8. Chapter 8

Life had changed drastically for the Winchesters ever since the new, giggling addition had arrived home. Before driving to Boston, they’d all agreed on the name Alex but once the little boy was safely tucking in, the name had changed. It took them a whole night and plenty of beer before Gabriel slammed his hand down on the couch armrest, excitedly.

“Nathaniel!” He almost yelled, too drunk to control his voice. The brothers exchanged a look before Sam smiled.

“Could shorten it to Nate.” And that was how the baby upstairs _already_ had a name change several hours of being in the Winchester household.

* * *

  
**Three weeks later ( November 2nd 2011) - 6 weeks old**

 

Nathaniel was, thankfully, a quiet baby. He barely cried and he managed to keep his wailing down during the night, letting his three dads sleep. This night was different. Dean was comfortably spooning Sam, fitfully sleeping and dreaming of random things. Just as he was about to open the castle door in his dream, a sharp cry dragged him awake.  
He bolted up, trying not to wake his husbands but the noise had them already blinking away sleep and sitting up a lot slower than the older hunter.  
He walked over to the crib at the end of their bed and carefully picked Nate up, sighing in relief when he stopped wailing and let out a cute hiccup. Sitting down on the bed, he gently swayed his son but the stubborn child refused to go to sleep, sobbing a little now

Gabriel shuffled up behind him, holding out a small, blue teddy with a red bow on the front. He handed it to Nate, who wrapped his little arms around it as much as he could. His sobbing finally came to a stop so Dean stood to put him back in the ornate crib. Nate refused to budge from the hunter’s arms.

“Let him sleep with us.” Sam offered, already settling back into the warm, soft sheets. Gabriel laid down beside him in his back and happily let Dean put Nate down onto his clothed chest. The child giggled and snuggled close, held gently down by a gentle touch of Gabriel’s hands so that Nate couldn’t roll off in his sleep. Nate bundled the cotton shirt in his tiny hands and refused to let his father go.

Dean laughed at his son’s behaviour and laid down alongside Gabe, framing the archangel between the two hunters lovingly. They all fell into a deep sleep soon after, and Nate no longer cried after that.

  
**June 24th 2014 - 3 years old**

  
Although Nathaniel had been adopted, sadly because his biological parents hadn’t been ready for a child, he easily took on the behaviour of his three fathers.

He was mischievous like Gabriel, often leaving paint trails after his crafting sessions. Which, more often than not, included random handprints on the wall in bright red paint. Dean refused to be too strict with him, but that didn’t mean Nate didn’t get told off.

Dean didn’t want to be like his own father; stern and cruel sometimes despite his love for his sons. He had a chance to make his life worth something more than just the hunts. This was about proving to himself and his husbands that Dean Winchester could be a good father. Sam hadn’t understood at first, wishing that his brother was a lot sterner, but with time he knew that Nate shouldn’t turn out like they did. He took extra care with his words, encouraging his son to do what he wanted within the rules they’d set.

Nate wasn’t allowed to be unsupervised. Since Sam and Dean left the house for work, Gabriel was often taking on the role of babysitter. Not that he minded in the least, Nate was funny and he certainly learned fast. A small cry was enough to get the archangel to his side, creating an unending amount of toys and plushies.

 

When Sam returned home early, after settling a quick case, he stopped dead in his tracks. His view from the doorway allowed him to see that their once wooden, cabin-style living room had been turned into chaos.

“Uh... Gabriel?” The archangel suddenly popped out from underneath a mound of teddy bears, all various colours and sizes but equally soft and cuddly. Sam snorted at the sight of his husband peeking up above a teddy’s head.

“Yes, Sammykins?”

“Why does it look like a unicorn threw up in here?” Sam gestured wildly to the brightly coloured walls and inflatable gold stars suspended in midair by an invisible force.

“Nathaniel wanted the room to look cool. And by his definition, he wanted…this.” Gabriel finally stood up, brushing glitter off his jeans and scooping up his son.

“You look ridiculous…” Sam said, reaching over to try and remove the stickers and pink hairclips stuck in the archangel’s hair.

“No!” Nate yelled as Sam was about to pull out a Hello Kitty clip from Gabriel’s honey brown strands. The clip wasn’t holding anything back but merely hung on the end of his fringe that had once been nicely combed back. Now it was a mess and hanging loosely in his face.

“Okay, okay! I won’t touch it.” Sam moved back, holding his palms out in defence from the pouting three year old.

“Daddy is pwincess!!” Nate grumbled, twisting in Gabriel’s arms until he was forced to put the toddler down. Nathaniel made a bee line for the teddies, leaping up at one and not realising he’d almost fallen if Gabriel hadn’t snapped a plushies beneath him.

“So… my husband’s a princess, an archangel, a trickster. Is there anything you aren’t?”

“Getting laid.” Gabriel answered with a groan. It was true they’d cut back on sex, especially for the first two years when Nate slept in their room. Now he had his own and the boys could fully enjoy themselves again without the use of Baby when the archangel went hunting with Dean. They’d managed to keep that going but hunts were an occasional thing now, and only then it was a small job that wouldn’t take long.

Glancing between his son and his husband, Gabriel whispered something in Sam’s ear before snapping a fake Dean beside them. ‘Fake’ Dean went over to Nathaniel, keeping him busy for several hours until the original came back from work.

 

**February 12th 2019 - 8 years old**

 

The winter was relentless for the Winchesters. As much as Gabriel could do to keep himself and Dean warm as they trekked through snow covered streets hunting a werewolf, the archangel couldn’t do much except staying alert. Dean had already gotten scratched badly, and if the archangel hadn’t been there to heal him, Dean would’ve surely had to go back to the motel and given up the hunt.

Instead they navigated through the maze of back alleys until the werewolf was finally cornered. Dean took aim and shot it, watching it slump dead to the ground with a muted thump. As Gabriel turned, another werewolf came out of nowhere and tackle him to the ground, digging its claws into Gabriel’s chest, ripping his throat with careless movements.

A loud shot rang out, temporarily deafening the archangel but the world came crashing back down on him in a blur of red and black. Pain erupted through his body as blood flowed freely from his severe wounds. He heard Dean call his name but Gabriel couldn’t focus on it. His power was healing his body as quickly as it could, stitching the muscles and skin back together until he was left without a mark.   
Dean cried out in relief, clutching onto Gabriel as he tried not to sob at the sight of his almost-dead husband. Those wounds wouldn’t have killed the archangel but the vessel needed healing so he could use properly.

He slowly sat up. His vision spun before him for a few dizzying seconds until it still. He must’ve hit his head when the werewolf pushing him down. Looking around for the monster, he found it lying dead in the snow, blood staining the fresh white layer.

“Thanks for that.” Gabriel mumbled, getting up on his feet, unsteadily. Dean thoroughly checked his chest for wounds but pulled back, satisfied.

With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel’s blood-soaked clothes, along with Dean’s stained shirt, were exchanged for clean ones. Another snap and the two were stood in their driveway, Baby carefully stored in the underground garage.

Dean opened the door, relishing in the silence of the house. Sam was asleep already, not expecting his husbands until the next day. They made their way quietly upstairs and whilst Dean took a shower, Gabriel entered his son’s room.

The lights were off, as it was the middle of the night, but he could sense Nathaniel was still awake. He sat down on the bed, placing a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.

“It’s alright now, we’re back. Safe and sound.” He reassured him. Nate turned in his bed, looking up into his father’s eyes with red, tear-streaked ones.

“Where were you? Dad wouldn’t tell me anything. I’m eight now, I want to know.”

“You think I don’t know that, Nate? I wish I could tell you but your dads made me promise to wait until you were old enough to understand.”

“I am old enough.” Nate pouted adorably, trying to seem angry but it just made the archangel laugh softly.

“No, Nate, you’re not. But when you are, we will tell you everything, alright?”

“I wanna know now…” Nathaniel grumbled as his father ruffled his hair affectionately.

“Wait a little bit longer. I promise.”

  
**July 15th 2025 - 14 years old**

  
Dean waited outside the school gates patiently, leaning against the hood of the Impala. She was really getting old but Dean kept her in excellent shape, plus he had an archangel by his side in case the old girl gave out. Which she still hadn’t, yet.

The school bell rang out and after a moment, a flood of highschoolers ran out into the yard out of the gates, rushing out at an unbelievably fast pace. Minutes passed before Nathaniel came out, walking fast with his shoulders hunched forward and his hood up.

Sensing something was immediately wrong with his son, Dean rounded up on him, embracing his son in a quick hug that Nate didn’t return.

“Hey, buddy, what’s up?”

  
“Nothing. I just wanna go home. Please.” Nate didn’t wait for Dean’s reply and got into the passenger seat without another word.

Dean tried to make conversation with him but his son refused to talk, shutting himself in his room for hours and finally, when diner was prepared and he didn’t come down, Dean took action.

He knocked gently on Nathaniel’s door, cracking it open at first politely, before fully entering. His first thoughts were that his son was ill, by the way he was bundled up in his blanket, still wearing his hoodie.

“Nate, what’s wrong? You won’t talk, you won’t eat… did something happen at school today?” When Nate gave no response, Dean sat down on his bed like he’d done a thousand times before. “Look, whatever’s bothering you, you can’t keep it bottled up. Trust me, you don’t wanna do that, so how about you tell me what happened. Hmm?”

“They bully me because I have gay parents. They say it’s not natural and that having three parents is wrong.”

“Who’s they?”

“Just kids in my class. They’re always making fun of me…”

“What did you say to them?”

“Nothing. Dad says that violence isn’t the answer.”

“Sam say that?” A weak nod moved beneath the blanket.

“Listen, your dad, Sam, he’s a pacifist when it comes to stupid stuff. But this is serious, Nate. Have you told anyone about this?”

“I talked to my teacher but she thinks it’s wrong too. It’s not like I can say something mean to her.”

“Nate, look at me.” His son reluctantly shuffled to face Dean, still partly hiding between the navy blue blanket and black hood.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay or having any other sexual orientation. Those dicks have been to told that by horrible parents and sadly, they believe it. That doesn’t mean it’s true. You can love who ever you like and no on has the right to judge you, you hear me?”

Nathaniel nodded, eyes wide and teary.

  
“Now those assholes don’t deserve your time. So I’ll offer you this, either we pick out another school, or you get home-schooled. Because no son of mine is getting bullied. So take your time, I’ll talk it over with your dads, but you make the ultimate choice, got it?”

“Uh huh… Dad? Thanks.”

“No problem, kiddo.”

* * *

 

  
Later that night, over beer and a lot of Call of Duty on Gabriel’s part, they talked over the various possibilities to deal with Nathaniel’s schooling. Gabriel was perfectly alright teaching Nate since he worked at home anyways, so he was constantly there for his son. Sam agreed 100% with home schooling and Dean just went along with it.  
Two days later, Nathaniel was pulled out of school and picked up by Gabriel. He knocked on the classroom door, and was gestured in by a thin woman with an upturned nose and a constant sneer.

“Hey there, just here to pick up my son.” He said calmly. This was the woman who’d insulted his family.

“Nathan. Off you go.” She spoke harshly, using the nickname Nate hated just to get a rise out of him and his father.

“That’s not his name.”

“Does it matter? He’s leaving at last.”

“Yep, he is and away from your judgemental, bony ass.” Placing a confident hand on his son’s back, he guided him out of the classroom, but not before looking over his shoulder and saying, “Oh, by the way, my two super extremely gay husbands send their regards.”

The class erupted into laughter as the teacher was stunned speechless, watching the two leave without another word. Needless to say, Gabriel left a little surprise in the shape of an angry dog in the backseat of her car.

Nathaniel gave him a fist bump as they sat down in the stylish Camaro and they laughed most of the way back home, ignoring the odd looks from Dean as they entered. Knowing their son was alright now, Dean and Gabriel celebrated with a round of beer and drunk online gaming.

  
**September 23rd 2026 - 15 years old**

 

Nathaniel walked through the house, looking around the study for any books he could find relevant to his studies. For the last year, he’d been at home, receiving exams from the government schooling what-ever his dads had chosen for him.

Homeschooling Nathaniel wasn’t as easy as they’d first thought. With Sam leaving the state every week or so, and Dean working full time at the downtown garage now that he’d been promoted, Gabriel had had to cut back on his own job to teach his son.  
At fifteen, Nate had already passed many exams with flying colours, and he was only getting better. He’d adopted Sam’s way of studying, staying up late into the night, skimming through his school books and writing hundreds of notes until he could recite each chapter with ease.

  
He’d also taken a huge interest in history which resulted in the current problem Gabriel was stuck, alone, to deal with. His current project was on the Victorian era and the suspicious underground workings of criminals, like the black market and how influence families used their name and money to keep various crimes hiding from the police. It was fascinating and it had intrigued the curious boy.

Dean and Sam hadn’t cared for the project, since neither of them knew a lot about history in that context, but Gabriel had helped out where he could.

His fathers were a mystery to Nate. They left sometimes for days on end, with no message aside from a text saying they’d be back soon. Nate was left in Sam’s care when that happened, and for some reason Sam never went with them, preferring to either go to work or stay at home, working on his car or reading a long book.

Nate loved his fathers unconditionally, and he looked up to them for various reasons. Gabriel always supported him, despite Nate’s sometimes ridiculous demands for old books that somehow always appeared the next day in the mail. Nate still hadn’t figured out how Gabriel managed to get him everything he needed, even rare books.

 

Dean taught him how to repair a car, even letting him work on the Impala for minor repairs when he thought Nate was finally ready, though he never let him near the trunk for some odd reason.

Since Nathaniel had been bullied often for having gay parents, Dean taught him basic self defence on the weekends. It was nothing compared to what John had taught his boys since Dean wasn’t making Nate jog ten miles back to the motel as punishment for messing up a hunt, and he didn’t force him to push his body to the breaking limit.

No, he was caring, guiding his son with gentle words and confident movements until Nate could overpower him by using dirty tricks. Winchesters didn’t fight by the rules. Dean warned Nathaniel that people would threaten him with weapons or fists, and he needed to stand his ground and win. Sure, it had scared his son for a few days but when he’d come back to Dean, he was ready.

Sam had joined in a few times as well, impressed beyond words at the speed his son moved and struck at. It worried Sam that Nate would turn out like them, but after months of training, he knew the workouts were going to help him in any situation. Plus, he couldn’t argue with Dean’s techniques when Nate knocked him on his back, forcing the air from his lungs as he hit the ground rather painfully.  
His son would be just fine.

Aside from randomly joining the sparring sessions and getting his ass whooped, Sam tried his best to give Nate history, geography and science lessons whenever he could so that he could pass his exams and maybe move on to university if he felt like it.   
Nate’s future was open and since he was only fifteen, his parents weren’t pushing him to decide any time soon.  
The college route was occasionally brought up over dinner, but Nate hadn’t thought that far just yet. He took each day as it came and just enjoyed his relatively calm life with his three dads. Not a sentence one could say often.

\----

As much as he enjoyed his dads’ company, they were still extremely secretive with their personal lives. It was obvious they hid something from Nathaniel and his curious and nosy mind kept trying to come up with answers.

Sam probably lied about travelling for business, maybe he was a spy or an assassin. Dean and Gabriel’s abrupt trips away were also very strange. They’d leave in the Impala, packing duffel bags and dumping them in the trunk at night when they thought Nate was sleeping, unknowing that he spied on them through the garage door that led down beneath the house.

The opportune moment came when Dean and Gabriel left for a few days. They never gave a reason. If Nate asked, they’d reply with ‘don’t worry about it, buddy’.   
Sam also had a client meeting in California that weekend so for the first time since Nathaniel could remember, he was left alone for two days at the very least.  
Sam wanted to hire a babysitter, prodding Gabriel into it as well, though he wasn’t too happy about the situation. He didn’t want a stranger looking after his kid.  
With no small amount of insistent pleading, Nate was allowed to stay alone in the house under the very threatening promise that he didn’t leave the house, not even to go into town, at night least he wanted Dean to take away his gaming privileges for a whole month.  
He could go during the day, but since there was nothing for Nate to do at night with his age, he stayed at home like promised.

 

“Alright, you’ve got our numbers. You only answer the phone if it’s from us, and no one else. Call us if anything happens. Anything. Stay home if you can, you’ve got everything you need. Don’t stay up late. Under no permission are you to steal or drink any alcohol. I know it’s tempting seeing it there in the cabinet, but we trust you to leave it alone.  
“Okay, I think it goes without saying, but don’t touch the cars and don’t mess around in the basement. It’s dangerous there, and we don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Don’t worry, dad. I’ll be good.” Nate grinned at Sam, chuckling as his dad stuck his tongue out at him before embracing him warmly. Nate sighed, enjoying the hug before he waved Sam off. Sam was leaving first, catching the earliest plane to California before the sun had even risen. He’d come into Nathaniel’s room, overjoyed that his son had set his alarm to get up before Sam left.  
With a loving ruffle of his son’s black hair, Sam went downstairs to get into the taxi waiting patiently outside for him. 

  
Dean was up an hour later, moving silently across the kitchen to make himself coffee. The light was already on and Dean was surprised to find his son sitting comfortably at the kitchen table enjoying an early breakfast of Captain Crunchies with freshly made coffee.

“You’re up early.” Dean stated as he poured a cup for himself, settling down on the opposite red leather bench. They’d kept the retro diner as Dean had created it seventeen years ago. The rest of the house had changed with the years, adding more and more trinkets from their holidays but the kitchen remained the same.

“Wanted to see you guys off.” Nate cheerily replied, an ungodly amount of caffeine coursing through his veins because he was never up before 11am.

“Thanks. Lemme guess, Sammy give you the ‘no drinking’ speech already?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Don’t wanna repeat it. You’re old enough.” Nate’s eyes sparkled with mischief; a look Dean had seen on Gabriel’s face far too often.

“Hey dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember when I was little, dad told me one day you’d explain where you guys went off and all that?”

Dean groaned inwardly. “Gabriel or Sammy?”

“Gabriel.” When Nate just smirked, Dean took a long swig of coffee, wincing as it burned down his throat.

“Look, I don’t know what he said but-”

“He promised you would all tell me what’s going on. And you just said I’m old enough…”

“Old enough to know how to behave properly when you get the house to yourself for two days. Listen, you’re not ready to find out, okay? Trust me when I say that because I do not mean it lightly.”

“Are you guys spies?” Dean froze, thrown aback by Nathaniel’s seemingly random guess. He laughed into his cup and shook his head.

“No, we’re not spies…”

“Of course we are, Dean-o!” Gabriel exclaimed as he strolled into the kitchen, dressed in his usual green jacket and jeans. He’d taken one of Dean’s white t-shirt.  
For the past year, he’d grown a beard and kept it relatively trimmed. It made him look rougher and older but Dean found it suited him when they’d come home from a tedious hunt and Gabriel had been too busy to shave.

“We’re the best spies out there. Got badass, bullet-proof tuxedos and miniguns in our pockets. Like 007 but much cooler, and so much more handsome…” Gabriel proudly said, dramatically taking an aiming stance with both arms extended and one hand forming a gun. He pushed his other hand through his hair, combing it back and acting like a supermodel.

Dean and Nate erupted into laughter as Gabriel acted like a moron in front of them. Dean choked on his coffee, spluttering as he tried to get his breathing back under control. Nate wheezed and fell back against the bench, clutching his sides as he laughed. Gabriel bowed before them before sitting down next to his son, patting him comfortingly as Nate calmed down. He kept his arm around his shoulders, pulling his son closer.

  
“Hey, I’m the one choking here,” Dean complained, “why is he getting all the attention?”

“Because I gave you and Sam all of mine last night.” Gabriel winked.

“Ugh, gross. TMI guys?” Nathaniel pulled a face, pretending to push his dad away before laughing and settling back against his side. His two other dads never really cuddled him like this. It was nice.

“The fuck is t-m-i?”

“Language! It means ’too much info’”

“Yeah, way too much. Hey, dad?” Nate asked, glancing up at Gabriel.

“Yeah, champ?”

“Remember that promise you made me, to tell me what’s going on with you guys?”

“Not this again.” Dean groaned, getting up to refill his coffee. For years now, Gabriel no longer snapped things into reality, especially with Nate around. It was too risky.

“I remember, yeah, though I’m surprised you do…”

  
“When are you gonna tell me? I wanna know where you guys go…”

“And what if it’s something private, that your dad and I do?” Gabriel fixed him with a look. He knew his husbands weren’t ready to tell Nate anything. _Ever_.Nathaniel looked down at the table disappointingly. He’d thought his dads were doing something badass…

“Buddy, I know you’re curious, but if Dean says no, it means no.”

“But you always back me up! I just wanna know what you guys do! I’m not asking for details but I wanna know if you’re in danger.”

“I know I do. But I don’t have a say in this, alright? Your dads had very complicated lives and it’s not my place to tell you. I made that promise thinking that it would make you sleep easier knowing we were fine.”

“But you’re not, are you?” Nate held Gabriel’s eye, tearing up slightly but unwilling to let the subject go just yet. His curiosity wouldn’t be sated until he knew the truth.

“Nate, that’s enough. I said no and that’s the end! Now, I want you to stop asking because Gabriel doesn’t need that kind of pressure from you. If Sam and I ever want to tell you, we will, but I’m not ready to have this discussion with you!”

Gabriel stood up abruptly, placing his hands on Dean’s chest until he knew his husband had calmed. Dean had _never_ yelled at his son before.

“So it’s not me who has to be old enough, you just don’t have the balls!” Nate yelled back, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he rushed upstairs, slamming his bedroom door.

The kitchen was silent for a few moments. Dean was too shocked to say anything so he just grabbed his car keys from the hook by the door and went into the garage to prepare the car. Gabriel stood there for a minute before snapping out of his thoughts and went upstairs, knocking softly on Nate’s door.

 

“Nathaniel?” He called as he entered the room. His son’s bedroom was a mess; clothes scattered on the floor, pictures knocked off the desk. Nate was always tidy.  
In the middle of the chaos, he found his son bundled up in his blanket. His mind flashed back to that night where he’d come home early from a hunt and had reassured his son that he and Dean were safe.

Nate sobbed quietly. He’d learnt to make almost no noise when he was upset, since his dads weren’t the most emotional people. A warm hand settled on his shoulder as the bed sank under Gabriel’s weight.

“I know it’s frustrating. But your dads led very painful lives and when they met me, they decided to put it behind them and start fresh. Dean is scared that if he tells you the truth, you will be afraid of him and Sam, and that you might pull away from us. Surely you can understand why he’s scared?”

“I would never leave you. You’re the best dads I could ever wish for…” Nate mumbled through sobs.

“I know that, but Dean is scared. His life was filled with people running away from him, and the last thing he could deal with would be to lose you.”

Nate shuffled beneath the blanket, sitting up shakily against the headboard. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hands. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he steadily glanced up at Gabriel with wide, red-rimmed eyes that made him look years younger. It broke Gabriel’s heart to see his son like that, but there was nothing he could do beside explain Dean’s reasoning and hoping it was enough for the time being.

“Nathaniel, I know it’s hard not knowing the full story but one day, your fathers will tell you. But only when they’re ready.”

“What about yours? You’re my dad and I feel like I barely know you.”

“That’s not true. You known me all your life and yes, there are many things I would love to show you and teach you, but those things tie in with Sam and Dean’s past. Plus the story wouldn’t make sense without them. At least not all of it.”

“I just want the truth, dad. I hate seeing you both go ’cause I don’t know if you’re coming back. When I was younger, I figured you were having an argument and then later on, I thought you were cheating on each other. But I see you guys every day, and I know you wouldn’t do that. So it leaves me feeling scared because I don’t know where you are.” Nathaniel explained, trying to keep his voice level despite the tremble as he spoke.

Gabriel watched him for a moment, trying to figure out how Nate could’ve imagined such things, but to the boy, it _was_ strange. Two of his parents were constantly leaving the house each month or so without any explanation.

“Nathaniel. I can promise you that as long as I’m around, neither Sam nor Dean nor you will ever, ever get hurt. I will always protect you with my life.”

“And what happens when you’re not there anymore?” Nate mumbled, gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I’m a hell of a lot tougher than you think, Nate. I’m always gonna be there.” _Even after you’re gone_ , he thought.

  
“Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so. What we do is very important, and one day, you will understand that. But for now, enjoy yourself. You’ve got two days before Sam gets back and I’m pretty sure having a house to themselves is every fifteen year old’s dream.”

Gabriel made a move to get up but toned arms latched themselves around his torso, gripping tightly the back of his old jacket. He glanced down, seeing a mess of black hair that painfully reminded him of Michael. He held his son against his chest, cradling the back of his head with a warm hand, comforting him as best he could. Nathaniel’s body heaved with each sob and after a few minutes he relaxed his grip, cuddling as closely as possible to his father.

He pulled back eventually, unable to keep Gabriel there for very long since they had to go. They said their goodbyes and Gabriel left with Dean, leaving Nate all alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Saturday**

 

The morning dragged on slowly as Nathaniel tried to keep himself occupied and stop worrying for his fathers. The whole mystery of their trips still bugged him so in an attempt to distract himself, Nathaniel settled himself in Gabriel’s gaming chair; a sleek, black leather chair with metal armrests. The living room was huge compared to any other room in the house. With the fireplace and stairs taking up a wall each, the couches were arranged in the middle of the room. Gabriel had set up a 72” curved TV along the only free wall and had placed most of his consoles on glass cabinets.

Nate switching on the PlayStation and loaded up the newest Call of Duty which took place on another planet. It looked like a copy of Star Wars but the graphics and controls were flawless compared to the older games, so Nate didn't mind too much. The online menu popped up and Nate settled into the overly comfortable chair, placing the expensive headphones on and taking a sip of his soda before choosing a team.

Gabriel and Nate had tried for years to get Dean into gaming but the man was hopeless with any technology that wasn’t from 2000’s. He occasionally drunk-played with his husband for fun, though. Sam hadn’t been too impressed either. He was good but his job as a high-end lawyer made it difficult to have much spare time, and then he only spent it home-schooling Nate or doing some romantic stuff with his husbands. 

 

It wasn’t obvious Nathaniel was adopted. At first he thought he might have been one of theirs, biologically, but when he’d asked, at the tender age of five, his dads sat him down and explained that his real parents hadn’t wanted a child so he’d been adopted. Yet the piece of paper meant nothing to Nate. He felt like their son and whoever his parents might’ve been, he didn’t care. He had three loving dads that doted on him constantly.

As much as he loved Sam and Dean, Nate automatically felt closer to Gabriel. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the shorter man had always stood out to him. Sam and Dean were awesome parents, don’t get him wrong. But they never quite understand everything that went on in his head, yet somehow, Gabriel did. He knew exactly what Nate needed before he even knew it himself.

When Nathaniel had been twelve, Gabriel had introduced him to gaming. At first, it was the older games like Crash Bandicoot or even Tomb Raider on the original consoles. Slowly over the years, he was introduced to every console Gabriel had in his possession, which was an ungodly amount. Gabriel had wanted to raise him with a proper childhood; the whole ‘riding your bicycle outside’ and letting him explore the world he lived in bit by bit. He even took him fishing once and had later on cooked the fish they’d proudly caught whilst they camped in the backyard.

 

Not only that but Gabriel taught him how to prank his dads harmlessly, leaving Dean’s beer bottles coated in super glue or how to scare the neighbours’ kids on Halloween. That holiday was often awkward at best for some reason unknown to Nate. He took part with Gabriel but Sam and Dean always refused, opting for beer and a good, old fashioned horror. Kids went out trick-or-treating with Nate for several years, bringing back mountains of sweets that he would share with his dads.

He remembered the one time he’d dressed up as a fallen angel, which to him meant bloodied, white wings which had been scorched and gruesome wounds from Hell. He’d walked downstairs after spending two hours in the bathroom perfecting his makeup, and surprised his dads who sat in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Nate had cleared his throat, and exclaimed “Ta-dah!”, dramatically spinning to show off his costume. Gabriel had taken his attention away from the food to look at his son. His face drained of all colour and he’d practically ran out of the kitchen and into the bathroom to throw up. Nate wasn’t sure why his dad had had that reaction, but then again, he did look rather terrifying. Dean was pale too, rushing off to find Gabriel and make sure he was alright. It was strange since Gabriel was fine gutting the fish or birds he bought.

Only Sam seemed relatively calm. He’d walked over to Nate and really given his costume a good look. Appraising his makeup skills, Sam gave him a tight smile and wished him a good time as he left with his friends.

He’d come home with sweets and plenty of compliments from neighbours and friends, but before he joined his dads cuddled up on the couch, he asked Sam to help him remove the makeup. Nate later on came down, no longer bloody, and settled against Gabriel, holding out some Haribos as an apology.   
Gabriel had ruffled his hair lovingly and taken the sweets, no longer nauseous now that Nate had cleaned up.

 

  
“- _your mom said!_ ” The loud, childish voice yelling in his ear through the headphones brought Nathaniel out of his train of thoughts.

“ _Oh, yeah? Well, only gay losers say that!_ ” Another voice spoke out, also belonging to someone far too young to be playing an action-shooter game at their age.

“ _You fucking cheater!_ ”

“ _Nu uh, just a pro. You just suck ass!_ ”

“ _Your mom sucks ass._ ”

“ _Will you fucking babies shut the fuck up?!_ ” A third voice exclaimed, much older and angrier.

“ _We’re not babies!_ ”

“ _Yeah, fuck off, grandpa!_ ”

“You little shits should-” The man followed up with a series of profanities that had Nate raising his eyebrows before switching to another game. Slotting GTA into the console, the familiar rock song played as he loaded up his account, not wishing to disrupt Gabriel’s online character and all the trophies he’d received. The game spawned him outside the city, beside a sports car.   
He drove up to a race, where several other players had joined.

“ _Hey, got another guy joining. Hi!_ ” A cheery woman’s voice rang out.

“Hi.” Nate replied quickly, twisting his body ridiculously as he drove through tight corners. He had a habit of moving his entire form with the controller. The chair vibrated as he cut across gravel and just as he was about to pass the finish line, a sharp knock at the door distracted him long enough for the girl he’d spoken to, to win.

“Sorry, guys, gotta go!”

“ _Bye!_ ” She happily replied before Nate paused the game and went over to the front door. He glanced through the peephole, noticing a man in a blue uniform.

He opened the door and the guy looked just as surprised as he was.

  
“Can I help you?” Nate asked, eyeing the guy up and the large parcel in his hands.

“Is your dad home?”

“Which one?” Nate joked, hoping to startle the man, but instead he just kept up that little polite smile of his.

“Dean Winchester. Is he home?”

“How do you know that’s my dad’s name? Could be mine.” Nate asked, suspicious of the stout man.

“Because your dad’s been ordering from my company for years. We don’t talk much but I know the guy. Is he home or not?”

“Not right now, he’s working.” Nate answered slowly, unsure whether to tell the man he was alone in the house.

“Alright, well your dad did say this was urgent. I wanted to deliver it yesterday but I got swamped with other stuff. Give him my apology when he gets back.”

“…I will.” Nate said, accepting the surprisingly heavy parcel and signed for it quickly, before happily slamming the door in the man’s face. He placed the box down in the hallway and watched the man get into his truck and leave.

 

Nathaniel glanced down at the box and picked it up to put on the kitchen island. It sat there, wrapped in innocuous brown paper and with his father’s name scribbled neatly on top. Curiosity got the better of him and Nate started peeling the tape that held the paper down. Opening his father’s mail _wasn’t_ on his not-to-do list so he couldn’t _really_ be in trouble for it.

The paper was tossed aside to reveal a basic, brown box. Nate unwrapped that as well and as he peeled back the flaps, he noticed several smaller containers labelled, ‘holy water’, ‘holy oil’ and various other herbs whose smell wafted up from the box. They didn’t smell bad but it was overwhelming.

Nate carefully took out each item and laid it out on the marble worktop. The books were leather-bound and musty, a metal clasp on each one. They didn’t look like anything Dean would own. But then again, there was the mystery of the basement that he wasn’t allowed to go into alone. That and Dean’s previous life before Nate was born…

 

* * *

 

 

With renewed hope, Nate walked down into the garage, passing the classic beauties parked there. The door to the basement was unlocked so Nate opened it, pushing it open in front of him before entering in case anything jumped out. When nothing happened, he groped the wall for a light switch, blinking as the bright light blinded him for a moment.

The basement was filled with your everyday, typical crap. Shelves lined the wall, covered in dusty boxes and tools. A few pieces of furniture were scattered around, laden with lamps or other useless stuff no one bothered to throw away. However, there was one door along the far wall. A heavy-duty iron door with a spinning mechanism on the front sat there. Nate walked up to it, opening the door with a groan, unprepared for the sheer weight. He noticed the other side had no mechanism, so it could only be opened from the outside. Making sure the door was wide open so he didn’t get trapped, Nate took in the new surroundings.

A large, black pentagram with various symbols inside it was painted on the floor, despite all the furniture on top of it. Several door led out into other rooms or corridors. From his spot, Nathaniel could see a spacious kitchen and a gym. What the hell was this place? How could he have not known about this?

After a long pause, Nate walked into the bunker, slowly taking in what was around him. A wall was lined with guns and as he inspected it, Nate was sure they were loaded and very real. This must’ve been part of Dean’s old life. Nate couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.

He explored each room, taking his time to browse through the leather bounds filled with various notes about monsters. The books belonged to other people, as Nate didn’t recognise any of his fathers’ handwriting. Some books were very specified, especially ones concerning demons, or spirits or… what the hell was a Rugaru?

Shaking his head did nothing to remove the scene in front of him. He pinched his arm, yelping as he did, but he couldn’t wake up from what was clearly a dream. Except it was too detailed to be a dream. Nathaniel sprinted out of the bunker, pushing the door closed and closing the basement door as he ran back upstairs. He collapsed on the couch, breathing heavily.

 

Gathering his thoughts, he remembered the bunker hidden under the house. He refused to believe that his dads were insane. That was the only explanation that seemed to jump around in his head. He immediately pushed that thought down.

His dads weren’t insane. They were _preparing_. All the weapons, the books… the trips.

It finally clicked. _They hunted monsters_.

Dean and Sam hunted these things and still did. It explained the trips and all the freaky books on monster behaviours and traits. Opting to distract himself from the bunker and the fact that his dads were bad-ass monster hunters, Nate put his headphones back on and started playing, mindlessly driving across the map for over an hour.

His knee kept bouncing up and down anxiously and after a while, Nate gave up playing. He saved and got up to switch the TV and console off at the wall.  
As he walked back to the couch, he noticed his phone sitting there, staring up at him. Without much debate, he opened up his contact list and scrolled down to G.

 

N: **I found the bunker**.

Deciding to make himself some lunch, Nathaniel went over to the kitchen to place a pizza in the oven. It was just about ready when his phone buzzed.

G: **Have you told Dean?**

N: **No, not yet. I thought I’d text you first.**

G: **Thanks for the heads up. What made you look there?**

N: **Dad got a parcel from this shady guy, so I opened it and**  
 **found weird stuff inside. I figured there might be something**  
 **inside.**

  
Nathaniel was glad he’d texted Gabriel first. His dad didn’t seem too angry or surprised by his actions and at least Gabriel was asking questions rather than accusing like Nate thought he’d do. He’d never seen his dad angry. _Ever_. The guy was unbelievably calm and level-headed in every situation.

  
N: **Am I grounded?**

G: **No. Shall I tell Dean?**

N: **Whatever’s best.**

G: **He’s out RN. I’ll tell him when he gets back.**

G: **You know he’s gonna be pissed right?**

N : **Yeah. Are you pissed?**

G: **Not really. Always knew you’d find out.**

G: **Have you closed the door?**

N: **Yep. How long has it been there?**

G: **17 yrs**

  
Nathaniel placed his phone down to take the pizza out, cutting it up once it was on a plate. He walked back into the living room and pulled the coffee table closer.

  
N: **Since I know dad’s secret now, will you tell me yours?**

G: **Yes**

G: **But not over text. It’s not a light subject and I wouldn’t**  
 **blame you if you hated me afterwards…**

N: **I could never hate you dad. No matter what**.

N: **I want to know something though.**

G: **?**

N: **Those monsters in dad’s books… are they real?**

G: **Yes**

 

**Saturday evening**

  
Nathaniel sat quietly on the couch, watching a Breaking Bad re-run on the TV. He wasn’t really paying attention to Gus Fring's half-blown off face though. Ever since Gabriel had confirmed that all those creatures were real, he hadn’t texted his dad back. He’d taken his phone with him all day but no other text came through. The black screen mocked him but Nate couldn’t text back. It was too much all at once and now he wishing more than anything that his dads were there with him, answering the tirade of questions that flooded Nathaniel’s mind.

His phone finally buzzed next to him.

G: **Dean knows. We’re coming back straight away.**

N: **How long?**

The front door opened just as Nathaniel sent his text. He whirled round, completely taken aback when Dean and Gabriel walked in, carrying several duffel bags between them.

Dean dropped the bags onto the floor, immediately rushing to his son and wrapping his arms around him. Nate latched on, noticing the strong smell of blood coming off Dean.  
He pulled back, stricken by the horrid stench and the blood soaking through his dad’s t-shirt. Dean looked down apologetically and glanced back at Gabriel, raising his arms up in a silent protest.

Nathaniel watching as Gabriel raised one hand, snapped his fingers and suddenly the blood was gone and the shirt was clean.

“Are you hurt?” Nate asked, pressing his palms carefully over Dean’s chest in case he was wounded.

“It wasn’t my blood, kiddo.” Nate gulped, nodding nervously, unsure of how Dean was taking this. It was only just this morning they’d argued over his father’s secrets. Gabriel disappeared before Nate eyes, not even looking in his son’s direction before leaving with a snap of his fingers. He reappeared a second later, holding Sam’s hand.

“The fuck? I was in a meeting, Gabriel!” Sam exclaimed, face twisted in anger at the shorter man.

“Nathaniel knows about the bunker.” Gabriel explained and Sam glanced up , walking over to Nate uncertainly before hugging him.

“Wh- How did you-” He was interrupted when Gabriel’s phone was pressed into his palm, already loaded on the texts. Sam took a moment to read them, eyes widening in fear as he realised his son finally knew about their past, at least some of it.

“I want to know everything. I have all these questions and I don’t know what to do…”

“It’s okay, Nate, don’t worry. We’ll tell you everything.” Dean assured him, already taking a seat on the couch and patting the seat next to him.

 

  
Nathaniel sat down precariously, leaning back into the soft, well-used leather. He was too caught up in his thoughts to notice someone pass him a soda. Drinking a bit too quickly, Nate mentally prepared himself for their talk. After years of questions piling up, he was _finally_ going to hear the truth about his family.

Sam sat down beside Nate, whilst Gabriel merely hovered by the wall, looking extremely uncomfortable with his arms folded across his chest and a frown on his face.

“Nate, Dean and I are hunters. We find creatures that hurt people and we kill them. We’ve been at it since we were young. The bunker you found is a what we like to call a ‘panic-room’. Every single ward, seal and trap has been installed into the walls and floor to make sure nothing besides humans and a few other beings can get in there.  
“In the very unlikely event that something tracks us here, which would be an unbelievable feat of its own, nothing can get in to that panic room. With me so far?”

Nathaniel nodded briefly.

“I don’t hunt anymore. So my trips are genuine. I am a real lawyer and when I go away, it’s for business. Now, Dean is still a hunter. He’s never stopped and since none of us will let him go hunting on his own, Gabriel volunteered to go with him. Every month or so, there’s a new case. Whether it’s a spirit, demon or whatever, they go find it and kill it before it can hurt anyone else.”

“So you guys are out saving lives?”

“That’s why we do it, buddy.” Dean replied.

Sam went on to explain everything starting from Mary’s death which started their path into the hunting world, even mentioning the fact that they were _brothers_. Yet, somehow, Nathaniel didn't bring that up, as though he knew already. Sam talked for hours, retelling the best and most exhilarating hunts to the wide eyed teenager.   
When he finished, Nate understood almost everything about his family and was eager to learn more.

“Can I go hunting?”

“No way, pal. I’ll teach you some stuff but there’s no way you’re going out there with me and Gabe.” Nathaniel groaned but the stern look he received shut him up. He knew there was no pleading or bargaining in the world that would allow him to join his father out there.

“Alright, fine… But I still want to hear about dad.” He glanced up at Gabriel excitedly, noting that the short man hadn’t moved an inch in the past three hours.

“Why don’t we save it for another night?” Sam offered, already exhausted from talking and the previously tedious meeting he’d been attending for half the day already.

“Dad?” Nate pleaded.

 

Gabriel sighed heavily, pushing himself up from the wall and strolling over to sit down in one of the matching armchairs. He looked between Sam and Dean before settling his eyes on Nathaniel. The boy hadn’t pushed his fathers away and instead, he’d embraced everything they said, soaking up the information like a sponge.

  
“Listen, Nathaniel, ugh…” He paused to gather his thoughts. “What I’m going to tell you is not easy to understand. You’ll probably hate me and I won’t blame you but it’s the truth.”

“I’m ready.” Nate said with an eager nod. He had no idea what his father was about to say and Gabriel almost wanted to run out of the room. His son would reject him.

“I’m an Archangel. I have three older brothers; Michael, Lucifer and Raphael. Things happened between us and I left Heaven to go live on Earth. I couldn’t keep the whole ‘archangel’ thing without being found so I hid under the persona of a Trickster God. Ever heard of Loki? You’re looking at him.  
“What started off with messing with your dads ended up bringing us closer. They intrigued me, and eventually I got my chance to date them. Skip two years and we adopted you. I promised myself and your dads that I would never tell you who I really was until they told you about their hunting. I wanted to, for years, but as time went on, it just got easier to suppress my powers when around you.”

  
No one spoke for a few minutes, letting Nathaniel catch up with what had been said until the boy looked up from the floor. He’d stopped glancing at Gabriel a while ago.

“So just to summarise, two of my dads are actually brothers and my third dad is an angel from Heaven. I’m not sure whether this is an elaborate joke or if you guys are being serious.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers and another bottle of soda appeared before Nate’s eyes. He watched his son pick it up, weighing it and drinking from it before looking away.  
Nathaniel had to _hate_ him. There’s no way he could-

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his neck and the solid weight of his son settled down partly on the leather and in his lap. Genuinely shocked, Gabriel didn’t know how to react for a moment before the arms gripped him tighter and he suddenly hugged Nathaniel back.

Tears slid down his cheeks as Gabriel pressed his face in Nathaniel’s neck, holding his son as closely as he could in the awkward position. He didn’t know how long passed before he felt Nate’s arms loosen and he pulled back to sit more comfortably beside his dad. Nate settled himself against his father’s chest, wrapping an arm around his torso for a quick hug.  
Gabriel refused to let go and somehow they fell asleep like that. Dean fetched them a blanket before retreating upstairs with Sam.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next weeks, Gabriel started using his powers again. At first it was the simple things, like creating candy out of thin air in front of his family. Then it was full meals when the archangel was too tired to cook. Books were spawned for Nathaniel’s studies and now the teenager knew why his material always arrived when he needed it. Broken plates were snapped back to their original ways with no proof that they’d been damaged in the first place.

Gabriel didn’t speak much anymore. He kept himself locked in his office, working on art commissions, but still teaching Nate when he could. His husbands were lost when it came to helping the archangel. They didn’t know much about his life or his brothers, but his quietness was related to telling Nathaniel the truth about what he was.  
Dean tried to take him out on dates, staying up late to play videogames, working on the Camaro and Mustang to distract him, but nothing worked.

Sam took it upon himself to cook dinner even though Gabriel insisted he could manage, despite forgetting many times and finding that his family had _already_ eaten and gone to bed whilst he worked.

Gabriel just got worse. At first, he stopped making jokes and laughing at the most inappropriate of times, then it was the long silent pauses where he drifted away from reality. Now he barely ate, even with the Trickster metabolism that urged him to eat sugar as often as possible.

  
The whole house had gone quiet. Sam and Dean had both gone to work after taking a two week long break to help the depressed archangel. Nathaniel sat at the diner booth in the kitchen, trying to focus on his maths paper but his attention kept drifting away to his dad sitting alone upstairs. With a sigh, Nate placed his pencil down and stood up.

 

The walk up to the office felt like an eternity, time stretching on before Nate finally managed to raise his hand and knock twice on the intricately carved door.  
A minute passed. Two minutes. _Three minutes_.

Nathaniel pushed at the door only for it not to budge. He tried to use his shoulder, but nothing happened. Worry coursed through him as the terrifying thoughts that his father had done something to hurt himself or worse filled his head. With a powerful kick at the wood around the handle, the door almost flew off its hinges, slamming into the wall and bouncing back slightly with the force.

Gabriel was slumped against his desk, one arm hanging off the edge. Various bottles were littered around, all empty, but it wasn’t the alcohol that shocked Nate.  
It was the hundreds of drawings of several men, repeated in different styles but always the same people, over and _over_ again.

Nathaniel rushed to his dad, pulling him back into a sitting position and checking his pulse. When he found it steady and at normal speed, Nate breathed a sigh of relief and brushed the stray hair away from Gabriel’s eyes. The archangel groaned, blearily glancing up at his son with heavy, tired eyes.

“Michael? Is that you?” He whispered, raising a hand to cup Nate’s head and bring him closer, pressing their foreheads together. Gabriel’s eyes flew open and he immediately pushed Nate away with more strength than Nate expected, sending down on the ground harshly.

“You’re not Michael! You’re not my brother!” Gabriel yelled storming out of the room abruptly and disappearing into the master bedroom.

Nate grunted as he shakily stood up. He wasn’t sure if one of the people drawn around the room was his dad’s older brother, but he was willing to bet on it. He went to his parent’s room and pushed the door ajar, peering in to find his dad angrily pacing the length of the room.

His hands gripped painfully tight in his hair, tearing a few strands out as he pace furiously. He didn’t know what was wrong. It was like he couldn’t control his emotions and the more he thought about it, the worse it got. Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel noticed someone standing in the doorway watching him. He scoffed, not wanting to deal with whoever wanted his attention. No, Gabriel needed to understand what was happening and how he could stop this flood of pain and anguish.

“Dad?” A small voice spoke out. Gabriel turned to it, ready to yell and scream at the young man, but before he knew what was happening, the boy had crossed the room and held him tight.

“Nate?” He muttered feebly. He had a son. Nathaniel was his son. Why did he look like Michael? The black hair, the sharp features…

“It’s me, dad. It’s Nate. Everything’s okay, dad, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll take care of you.” He promised, pulling away slightly but still keeping his hands on his father’s arms.

“I don’t know what’s wrong… I keep getting worse and I can’t help it…”

“We’ll work this out together, dad, don’t worry. Now how about I order us some pizza and we watch a film together?” Nathaniel offered, taking his dad’s hand in his and gently dragging out of the bedroom and down the stairs into the living room.

It was only mid-afternoon and the sunlight filtered through the large windows on the first floor above the fireplace. The wood panelled walls extended up to the ceiling, interrupted only by long, arched lattice windows.

The pizza arrived twenty minutes later and Nate set up plates, dividing the food on the coffee table. He handed his dad a plate and set up the original Star Wars trilogy, watching quietly and occasionally laughing at Han Solo’s sarcastic remarks.

Gabriel stayed silent but ate his pizza, taking small bites despite starving from the lack of food for days. Whiskey wasn’t a healthy alternative.  
When the first film ended, Nate got up and left. He came back with two bowls of ice cream. Gabriel’s was filled to the brim, covered in chocolate sauce, an ungodly amount of rainbow sprinkles and small sweets. Two cookies were stuck into the top, drizzled in syrup.

The archangel carefully set it aside and pulled Nathaniel into his arms, clutching onto his son in a long hug, sighing heavily into Nate’s shoulder and crying silently.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts on Nathaniel? Do you guys like him?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time! BTW this fanfic has finally reached an end! It's my longest so far and I'm very proud of it. Hope you're enjoying my work and feel free to leave kudos and comments!

**15th December 2028**

 

The house was silent expect for the rhythmic tapping of a pen on a screen. Gabriel's office door was partly open, allowing the noise to drift through the empty house, bouncing off the walls that had seen so much joy and happiness over the decade and a half.

Sam and Dean had go on a roadtrip to New York for some early Christmas shopping, leaving Nathaniel to hang out with his friends during the day rather than work on his studies since he was allowed to cut back. But the archangel had wanted to stay at home. He’d been working on a commission for the past two weeks and was dying to finish it.

Just as the last detail was added on the fiery dragon’s scales, Gabriel saved his work and sent it to the gaming company that was paying him. It had taken him longer than most but it was certainly one of his best works.

Sitting back in his spinning chair, Gabriel sighed happily and drank down some of his now-cold coffee. He winced and immediately warmed it back up with a thought. The coffee was overly sweet and just right for the archangel. Since he had the house to himself for a few hours, Gabriel decided to make himself a quick lunch, jogging down into the living room and started up the Xbox, loading up some shooting game before entering the kitchen.

Grabbing a cooled beer and snapping up some fries and bacon burger, Gabriel turned to exit the kitchen only to bump straight into a tall man with dark hair. Worried that some creature had gotten past the house’s defences, the Archangel glanced up at the man.

 

Castiel.

 

“Cas, hey buddy… Whatcha doing here?” Gabriel asked in a polite tone- trying to seem happy when internally he was angry and confused at his brother's sudden appearance- setting down his food on the counter to eat, after he’d dealt with his brother.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” Castiel moved forward imposingly, pushing Gabriel back until he was pressed up against the counter, uncomfortably yet effectively sandwiched between the marble and angel, though both were just as immobile.

“Look, Cas, no offence, but back off.”

“Why should I? I should kill you and end this before you complicate things even more than you already have.” The silver blade appeared in Castiel’s hand, glistening in the sunlight but at that moment, Gabriel wasn’t admiring the fine weapon so much as he was trying to squirm away from it.

“Whoa! Now, now, Cassie, those Winchester boys are here of their own free will.”

“Unless you’ve forgotten, there’s a war going on.”

“Hey, listen, you prick. We’ve been living here for seventeen years without a single problem. There’s no war here and that’s how I intend to keep it.”

“Gabriel, you will end this illusion or I will kill you.”

“We both know you won’t.” Within a second, the angel blade was pressed threateningly against Gabriel’s throat, pushing the sharp tip into his skin whilst Castiel merely watched him with a blank look.

“End it.”

“I can’t! We finally have real lives and Sam and Dean can live here until they die of old age. For fuck sake’s, we have a son!”

Castiel wavered for a moment, uncertainty flashing in his eyes and he slowly lowered the angel blade, still keeping it close. He took a step back, finally giving Gabriel space.

“I know that, but the angels are getting restless.”

“How long has it been for you? Over in that world.” Gabriel asked.

“A few months. Lucifer is still in his cage for now, but Michael is waiting desperately for Dean to come back. I’m giving you the chance to end this while you still can.”

  
“No, that can’t be right! Your world’s frozen! You shouldn’t even be here right now…How did you g-”

“Michael. He undid your work a while ago when he finally tracked you down. I’m sorry, brother, but you don’t have a choice. End this while you still can.” With that, Castiel vanished in a flutter of wings that only angels could see. He left Gabriel alone in the kitchen, leaving the archangel terrified and sick. His food was snapped away, hunger gone completely.

 

He couldn’t end this. At first it was just for fun, but over the years, his bond with the Winchesters’ had unbelievably grown, enough for them to really live together as a family and ignore the troubles of the world they’d left seventeen years ago. Gabriel had never been as happy as he’d been all those years living in the lavish home that his husbands had carved out of the basic shell, turning it into the most loving and kindest place Gabriel had ever lived, aside from Heaven, though it was a close second.

The archangel sat down miserably on the couch, switching off his Xbox since his mood had drastically changed within minutes. If Michael had found him, then there was nothing to do.  
He loved his older brother, but when it came to the big showdown between Mickey and Luc, Gabriel was shoved aside unless he was useful to either brother. The passiveness and refusal to join either side made him nothing more than a nuisance to Michael. He was hindering them and keeping the two vessels away from the archangels. That was enough for Michael to come crashing down and ruin his perfectly happy life once more. As if his brothers fighting tooth and claw hadn’t been bad enough. Now they wanted to end Gabriel’s new life.

  
In the end, there was nothing to do. Castiel’s message was pretty clear and Gabriel certainly wasn’t about to fight the Host of Heaven, because he would certainly lose despite his skills.  
He would have to sit Sam and Dean down and explain how they would go back to the Apocalypse and lose not only their lives here, but also lose their son. Nathaniel wasn’t a construct of Gabriel’s but he wouldn’t even be born for another two years once everything went back to its normal ways. Deciding that it would be best to let his husbands enjoy their trip before giving them the awful news, Gabriel carried on pretending everything was fine.

When Sam and Dean came back, joining Nate at the dinner table almost immediately as soon as they came through the front door, Gabriel took them to the side afterwards and explained what had happened. He watched the horror and fear fade to a deep sadness in his husbands’ eyes and later that night, he pressed his fingertips to Sam and Dean’s foreheads.

  
He removed the memories of the conversation.

They didn’t need to know.

Gabriel kept pretending everything was fine.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: major character death but it's temporary

**December 24th 2028 - 17 years old**

 

  
D: **Have you got everything?**

S: **Yh Nate’s gonna love this**

D: **Still can’t believe how long it’s been**

D: **Feels like yesterday**

S: **You say that every year :P Be careful out there**

  
Every year, the Winchester outdid themselves and their neighbours with Christmas decorations. The exterior of the house was covered in thousands of small, twinkling lights of every colour. Artificial deer and a sleigh was attached to the roof. Penguins huddles in the front yard, already coated in a thick layer of snow which had come down just after they’d finished decorating.  
Everyone knew _Gabriel_ was behind it. 

Inside was far more cosy, with a tall pine tree in the corner of the living by the crackling fireplace. The theme for this year was a mix of gold, red, brown and green.

A month prior, the family of four had gone shopping into some of the more rustic, crafty Christmas shops around the states, picking out hundreds of decorations with Nathaniel’s help. He was overjoyed to be able to pick this year’s theme, since his younger self hadn’t been too interested in how the house looked compared to the presents he received.

The tree was abnormally large and tall and it made it easy to find space for tinsel and electric lights. Those were always the first to be put on. Then came the baubles, all individual and hand-painted - non of that Walmart cheap stuff. The highest branches were covered in smaller baubles using Gabriel’s power to spawn them on the tree since no one could even reach the top, not even Sam on a step ladder.

 

* * *

 

 

The snow had gotten much worse, covering the world in a thick, white layer that made everything seem more innocent. It made driving almost impossible but Dean was determined to get home in time.

  
Nate had asked a combat knife for the past few months, insisting that he needed it for self defence; not that anything could enter the town without Gabriel knowing about it. After a long and tedious chat with his dads, Nate had let the idea go, unknowing that Dean had found the perfect knife for his son. It was pure silver, with a black handle carved from an ancient Romanian tree that had been cut down over a century ago. It wasn’t something Gabriel could just snap up, either. The knife had protective spells inlaid when it had been made by a famous hunter.   
Every hunter who knew about him, knew about the knife, so Dean had made sure to be extra quiet as he _stole_ it.

  
The knife sat in a black box, tied with a satin ribbon, on the passenger seat. There was no detail on the outside of the container, but the inside was covered in sigils to ward off anything until it was safely in Nathaniel’s capable hands.

His son had grown up unbelievably quickly, too fast for his dads to even register. His birthday was in early October and then he’d be eighteen and an adult. Even though Dean texted Sam about feeling like they’d only adopted Nate yesterday each year, he meant it.

  
They managed to give their son everything he ever wanted, within reason. Raised him like any normal kid was being raised; despite the archangel-dad thing. Most kids probably didn’t have that. Nathaniel had turned into an amazing, thoughtful person. He used to imitate his fathers when he was little but the traits still stuck. He was sarcastic and funny like Gabriel. Wise and gentle like Sam, and quick-witted and charming like Dean.

  
The weather was getting worse with each mile, the snow thickened on the roads and the storm made it near-impossible to see further than the hood of the Impala. The state line was only an hour away and then he would be under Gabriel’s protection. His archangel had expanded his reach to cover the whole state since the Winchesters often left the town for family trips and other normal stuff.

As long as Gabriel kept up the shield, Dean was happy to let his son run around New Hampshire without his parents. He was almost an adult and in no danger thanks to the archangel’s protection.

* * *

 

Back at the house, Sam, Nate and Gabriel were finishing up the last touches on the house. Outside, the storm wailed and snow crashed down onto the windows.   
Raising his hand, Gabriel quietened the storm until it became an easy, peaceful swirl of snowflakes in the sky.

Without the abrasive noise, Sam turned the Christmas music on, filling the room with old songs and adding that extra bit of charm to their home. A rock version of ‘Jingle bells’ played in the back ground as Gabriel snapped his fingers, instantly lighting the logs in the fireplace. With the warm glow of the flames and lights, the lamps were switched off, leaving the large room to bask in the cosy mixture of gold and red.

The presents were placed lovingly under the overly decorated tree but Sam knew that they were still missing one; the knife.  
It was something their son had begged for endlessly, and Sam had flat-out refused at first. Until Dean told him it was for self-defence, in case anything every happened to Nathaniel. Hunting wasn’t a common occurrence anymore but demons were still out there. The knife would protect him.

The men fell into a comfortable silence, settling down on the couch to watch some random Christmas movie together. Gabriel occasionally got up to check on the roast but satisfied, came back to cuddle against Sam. He’d gotten much cuddlier and romantic for the past two weeks.  
The younger Winchester was extremely cute, dressed in a red and white jumper depicting snowmen and reindeer that Gabriel had bought him on their last shopping trip. It was hideous and uncomfortable to say the least, but Sam kept it on, wearing it proudly. Gabriel’s was blue with snowflakes printed on it and Nate refused to wear the wool jumpers, happily bundling himself up in a blanket and hoodie instead.

  
Some woman on screen started talking about the spirit of the holidays during a commercial and Gabriel took his chance to walk into the kitchen, quickly grabbing a beer for the three of them. It was Christmas; his kid was allowed to drink. Not that his son would _see_ another Christmas.

He bent down to grab the bottles out the fridge, stood and turned to walked back out when an ice cold spike of fear ran through him. Gabriel froze still, accidentally letting the bottles fall and break on the floor into several pieces.

  
Sam rushed in, followed by Nate. He grabbed Gabriel’s hand gently but when the archangel looked up into his eyes; tearful gold meeting brown, Sam knew something was wrong. Gabriel whimpered slightly and leaned up to press a soft kiss to Sam’s lips. He moved away from his husband and embraced his son, pulling him closely, cupping his head with one head.

“I love you both, so much…” Gabriel whispered, voice breaking as tear slid down his face. The next moment, he was gone.

* * *

 

The snow was too heavy, falling down onto the Impala so hard that the windshield wipers couldn’t budge very fast. The wind howled outside but Dean ignored it. He was almost at the state border, the sign should’ve been appearing any second now.

  
The entrance was on the other side of the bend, a sharp twist in between long stretches of road on either end. The Impala could drift, cut corners and all that at high speed but the snow made it hard to go above 30 miles an hour without snow treads; which at that moment, Baby didn’t have.  
Dean approached the bend slowly, easing the car around the thicket of trees that seen plenty of cars and dead drivers over the years. The snow piled up on the bank and Dean was forced to drive in the middle of the road to avoid it.

Before Dean could register what was happening, blaring lights shot out of the grey storm. He never saw the truck until it rammed the front of the Impala, sending Dean flying out of the windscreen.

  
\---

When Gabriel arrived, he rushed to the car, hoping Dean was still alive. The front of the car and the truck were crumpled; the metal bent, jagged and twisted until it was undecipherable where the Impala and truck began.

The truck driver scrambled out of the cabin, fumbling as he caught sight of Gabriel appearing before his eyes. The archangel turned towards him and the driver’s fell dead to the ground.

Gabriel moved towards the Impala, taking in her mangled form. The glass crunched beneath his feet as he finally reached Dean. His husband was dead. His eyes closed and blood pouring from various deep cuts on his face and hands.  
This wasn’t like mystery spot. There was no loop that would bring Dean back. Not that he could anyways, not with Michael threat hanging in the air.

The archangel lifted his hand to caress Dean’s cheek and with two fingers on his forehead, took them somewhere safe, pausing his own world so that Sam and Nathaniel couldn’t suffer.

He brought Dean’s body to the mountainside, where many years ago Gabriel had explained what he was. The moon and snow were replaced by warm sunshine and blue skies. With a cold touch of trembling fingers, Gabriel transferred some of his grace to Dean.

A moment later, the eldest hunter took long, ragged breaths as the bright sunlight and chirping birds registered in his mind. Twisting in the archangel’s loose grip, Dean scrambled to sit up in Gabriel’s lap, but he was gently scooped up and placed beside him on the large rock.

  
“Wh- what happened?” Dean struggled to speak, still under shock. Gabriel smiled wryly down at him, tears threatening to spill. His golden eyes were no longer bright and shining with amusement like Dean had become used to. They were dull.

“You died.” Gabriel simply said, carding through Dean’s hair with a shaking hand.

“You brought me back…” The archangel hummed. “What’s wrong?”   
  
“I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t keep this up or I will die.”

  
“Die? The hell you talking about? Where’s Sam? Nathaniel?” Dean almost shouted, gripping the front of Gabriel’s blood soaked jacket and balling his fist in the worn-out fabric.

“Michael knows and broke my hold. He sent Castiel to tell me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean whimpered, tears streaming down his face as the realisation hit him hard. Surely they could do something?

“There’s nothing to be done, sweetheart. I am sorry.” Gabriel leaned forward, pressing his lips against Dean’s softly and holding his husband tightly, refusing to let him go just yet. But he’d prepared for this. He’d said his goodbyes and with two fingers to Dean’s forehead, the world faded to black.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Major character death (temporary cuz this is SPN)

“- _Of the moment. Heat of the moment_.”

The old rock song played out, waking Dean immediately and whispered Gabriel’s name once. Hoping what had just happened was a nightmare, the hunter opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.

The room he’d woken up to for nearly two decades wasn’t there to greet him. The wooden panelling, the view of the mountainside, the photos of his family… it was gone. Replaced by stained, peeling green wallpaper and a sunken mattress that creaked as he moved to sit up and look around.

Sam shuffled in his sleep on the next bed, probably oblivious to what happened to him. As the realisation that his life was destroyed, ripped out from under him without warning, Dean rushed to the bathroom, making it in time to throw up.

His home, his job… That was nothing compared to the gaping hole in his heart that Nathaniel, his son, had taken up ever since they’d signed the adoption papers and taken him home just as Autumn rolled in.

 

Dean slowly made his way back into the motel room, mind sluggish and painfully aware of his situation. He barely remembered what he’d been doing a year ago, let alone seventeen years. The calendar on the wall proved that this wasn't all a sick dream.

Sam and Dean were back in 2009. Their son wouldn’t be born for another two years and he’d be adopted by some other family. He wouldn’t be called Nathaniel, named by a drunk Gabriel whose angelic best friend had been called that. All those birthdays and holidays, the camping trips, teaching Nate how to protect himself and learning all about the various things their brilliant son was studying.

Nathaniel was _gone_. Hell, _Gabriel_ was probably gone too. If his brother, Michael, had really issued an order to kill Gabriel unless he brought them back, then surely the archangel had gotten the hell outta dodge. No use trying to reach out to him.

Sam woke up and reached over to the radio, reducing the volume before realising that they didn’t have a radio beside their bed. He sat up and wildly looked around the room before settling his eyes on Dean’s unreadable expression.  
  
“Dean? Where are we?” He asked, climbing out of bed only to discover he’d slept in his clothes. Clothes he hadn’t worn for a long time.

“2009. Michael threatened to kill Gabriel if he didn’t put us back.” Dean simply explained, voice void of any emotions because right then, he just couldn’t deal with his thoughts. This wasn’t something he’d ever get over. 

“Did you know?”

“He told me just before he did it. I never got a chance to say goodbye to Nate…”

The brothers fell into long silence that stretched for days. They refused to answer Bobby’s calls after a few weeks. There was nothing to say.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucifer was freed and started raising the four horsemen whilst the hunters ran around trying to find ways to stop him, only to fail over and over again. Castiel was constantly around them now, helping to find any source of information to kill the Devil and trying to speak to God, but he too found nothing. It wasn’t until a demon named Crowley showed up that things started moving forward.

Yet the Colt he offered was no use. The bullet did nothing to Lucifer and once the horsemen’s rings were found to put him back into the cage, thanks to Crowley’s infinite knowledge, Lucifer once more won out.

Sam said yes.

Adam said yes.

All Dean could do was watch as the Devil took over his brother’s body and Sam take back just enough control to grab Adam and throw themselves into the cage.

 

Dean buried himself in liquor and blood, mercilessly killing whatever got in his way. His promise to Sam was long forgotten. He’d never see Sam, or Gabriel, or Nathaniel ever again. There was no point in doing anything besides hunting. He had nothing to live for anymore, who cared if he got mauled by a Wendigo?

He’d sent his belongings to Bobby, embracing his surrogate father one last time, sharing a beer as the sun faded beyond the horizon. Their father’s journal and hunting gear was left in Bobby’s capable care since Crowley had given him back his legs a year ago. Bobby tried to talk to him, for weeks, months, but nothing managed to fill the hole his family had left. Eventually, Bobby gave up too.

With a final pat on the hood of the Impala, Dean drove away with an expressionless face to find some place quiet. Bobby didn’t try to stop him. He never knew about Nathaniel and Dean refused to speak about his son. He’d tried to find the boy, to adopt him, but the baby never appeared in any hospital so eventually Dean gave up. On everything.

 

\---

  
The car slowed to a stop in a clearing surrounded by tall pines that creaked in the wind. Nice and secluded where no other person could find him unless they were hiking. Baby purred sadly beneath him. It was like she _knew_ it was the end.  
With sure movements, Dean dug through his music collection, greatly smaller than he remembered since his husbands weren’t there to add new stuff. A Lady Gaga CD fell out and Dean smiled, it was one of Sam’s. He finally settled on a band, other than the crappy pop his brother preferred, slotting the disc in and skipping through the song list until he found the right one.

“ _Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more_.”

The song played, flowing into a mix of guitar and drums as Kansas sang their iconic song. The music echoed through the Impala, now much lighter since the weapons were taken out and left at Bobby’s.

Dean reached into his pocket, carefully handling the white, pearl-handled gun he’d owned for a very long time. Fingertips gently caressed the grip, over each smoothed out detail, over the gleaming barrel that shone with the Impala’s headlights. It was _always_ gonna turn out like this, one way or another.  
Sam was gone and never coming back. He’d lost his life, both with Gabriel and the real one. There was no reason to carry on living.

He carefully clicked the safety off, positioning the barrel just beneath his chin. He didn’t think about how smugly it fit against him. The gun only had only bullet.

Nothing was coming after the hunter anymore. Michael was trapped in the cage and the need to be a true vessel had worn off. Demons and angels left him alone.

Somewhere along the line, Castiel left too. He was called back to take care of Heaven, to readjust the pecking order and sort out Michael’s mess before he could rule over the other angels. Dean hadn’t heard from him again. Cas was happy and safely home.

With a sigh, Dean focused on his brother’s face, picturing his handsome Sammy before lights out. Gabriel’s face appeared too, smirking with that mischievous look he always wore. Lastly, Nathaniel showed up. He recalled holding his son for the first time, seeing him grow up to be a wonderful kid that Dean had loved more than anything. His sharp but kind blue eyes, the messy black hair- he looked a little like Castiel sometimes. The angel filled his mind and Dean couldn’t help but let out a strangled laugh when he remembered Cas’ cute head tilt when he was confused or all those references he just didn’t understand.

As a last effort, Dean pictured them all, humans and angels, his entire, messed up family - Mary, John and Bobby included. He smiled briefly and pulled the trigger.

_Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go...  
> Thank you for all the wonderful feedback. This was a spontaneous fanfiction that I thought up  
> one night and finally finished. I'm so proud of it despite all its little flaws (to me at least) and  
> maybe someday I'll come back to it and add some more.  
> I might write a part two, so keep watching my account for any updates!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is here!

The shot rang out in the forest, startling nearby animals, sending birds flying away from the loud, singular sound. Kansas kept playing in the background before it faded into a peaceful silence as the disc came to an end, stopping its ceaseless spinning.

“Dean.” A quiet voice called out, gentle and soothing and oh so familiar. His heaven contained his long-gone husband. Maybe Sam was here too as a memory, never to ever be seen again for all of eternity, trapped with Lucifer and Michael.

“Dean, this isn’t _Heaven_.” The voice insisted, sounding much more focused and sharp like the man beside him was angry. He had no _right_ to be. Gabriel had left without a trace, leaving the hunter alone to wallow in his misery. The hole that he’d left couldn’t be filled with alcohol or the poisonous thoughts that Dean harboured each passing day.

“Open your eyes.”

Dean did as instructed, blinking away the initial blindness from the Impala’s bright headlights. The gun was taken from his loose grip, still smoking. There was no wound. No blood or gore splattered on the leather interior of his beloved car.

With sluggish movements, Dean turned to face the archangel sitting beside him. Seeing the seat occupied for the first time in over a year brought tears to his eyes. He refused to meet Gabriel’s pitying gaze, and focused solely on his jacket, taking in all the small stitches and buttons.

“Where were you?” He finally asked, still looking everywhere but in Gabriel’s golden eyes. His voice wavered, broken and unused for several weeks where he hadn’t relied on speaking to anyone. Bobby had been the last person weeks ago. After that, Dean drove around the country, hopping from one motel to another before he gathered up the courage to end his life. At least, he tried to.

Gabriel winced, reading his thoughts involuntarily. The gun was placed on the dashboard and away from Dean’s hands, not that there was another bullet in the magazine. It had been fired. But ended up elsewhere rather than the back of Dean’s head.

“Dean, I never thought-”

“ _Where_. _Were_. _You_?” Dean yelled, gritting his teeth as he finally looked up into his husband’s eyes. His fists balled but he never threw the punch, preferring to slam his hand down on the steering wheel instead.

Gabriel audibly gulped. “Hiding.” He replied shamefully, ducking his head. Whether in regret or not, Dean wasn’t sure.

“Why weren’t you there? When Sam said yes.”

“Lucifer won’t hurt him…”

“That so? Well, guess what? My brother’s trapped in the cage forever now and I’ll never see him again. I’ll never see my so-” Dean stopped, unable to continue without breaking down further.

“You know why I did it. How do you think _I_ feel? Huh?!” Gabriel yelled back, holding himself back from getting violent. It wouldn’t help anybody to punch Dean for his arrogance.  
“I lost my family too! Twenty years! Twenty fucking amazing years and out of nowhere, my own brother tells me he’ll kill me if I don’t stop. Nathaniel was my son too. I raised him with you both and those twenty years were the best I’ve ever had since I left Heaven.”

They sat in silence together, both unable of speaking. At some point the sun rose over the tree tops. Birds flew from branch to branch, chirping happily despite the heavy atmosphere.

“Why am I not dead?” Dean mumbled tiredly. He hadn’t slept for several days except for the alcohol-induced blackouts.

“I can’t let you die. You’re everything I have left.” Gabriel admitted forlornly, gazing out of the windscreen but unaware to the stunning view. His attention was on the broken man next to him, clutching desperately at the wheel with a white-knuckle grip.

“You left me.”

“I had no choice.”

“Yeah, right.”

Gabriel turned to him abruptly, seething golden eyes glaring straight into Dean’s frightened ones. Sometimes he forgot the man was an all-powerful being.

“I had no choice, Dean. Michael’s been after me from the get-go. I’ve been unable to reach you for so long.”

“And you chose that precise moment to finally show your pathetic ass?” Dean didn’t care if he offended the archangel, he’d passed caring months ago.

“I couldn’t let you die.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“I don’t think you understand the risk I’m taking here. Heaven is still out looking for me even if Michael is in the cage-”

“No, you’re right. I _don’t_ understand. And I sure as hell don’t give a crap! We waited for you, for weeks, to show up and apologise. We had to face your fucking tantrum-throwing SOB’s brothers all on our own! You weren’t _there_! You care more about yourself than Sam or me. You’re the most selfish, arrogant prick I’ve ever met! And to think I counted on you, trusted you with our lives…”

“Dean…”

“Leave. And don’t you dare ever come back.”

“Dean, I-”

“LEAVE!” Dean yelled, fist ready to connect with his husband’s- no, he had no husband. It had been a trick, nothing more. A horrid, twenty-year long trick that the Archangel had created out of sheer boredom and loneliness. He saw Gabriel wince and tears start streaming down his cheeks, but Dean didn’t care.

“I can bring Sam back!” Gabriel exclaimed with a last effort, watching as Dean clenched his jaw and glare at him despite all the hopeful thoughts flooding his mind.  
“What?”

“What I said about Lucifer, it’s true. He won’t hurt Sam and if I can just sort his vessel out to contain his power…”

“You want the _Devil_ back on Earth? That’s your plan right? Open up the cage, let your bros out and carry on with Apocalypse. No thanks.”

“I’m doing it whether you want me to or not. It’s a question of whether you want to be there when I do it.”

Dean watched him carefully. He knew Gabriel too well, knew what small tell-tale movements he made when he lied. Gabriel was telling the truth. He really would open the cage.

“You let me handle Michael and Lucifer.”

“You couldn’t before.”

“I never had anything worth losing before, either.”

Dean scoffed. “Gabriel, we will never be anything again. You took my life away, sent me into a make-believe world, pretended to be my husband and raised a son with me and Sam. After this is over, I never want to see you again.”

“Will you help me for now?”

Dean sighed deeply, glancing out of the windscreen before giving Gabriel a curt nod and turning the engine on. The archangel must’ve turned it off hours ago. Had it been that long already?

 

* * *

 

They drove up to where Sam had taken a nose-dive into the cage a year prior. The grass had yellowed and died where the portal had opened up but aside from that, the field still looked the same as before.

Baby slowed to a stop before Dean switched the engine off, settling back in his seat and sighed deeply. He glanced over at Gabriel, finding the archangel unusually quiet. After almost twenty years of constant laughter and jokes, it felt wrong to see him so solemn.

Dean got out of the Impala, not bothering to question where Gabriel had found the Horsemen’s rings. The archangel dropped them on the ground and began muttering in Enochian. The space where the rings had landed crumbled in on itself, slowly opening up the vast bottomless pit that led to the cage.

The ground shook and suddenly Sam appeared in a flash of bright light. The light engulfed them, warm and soothing despite what it truly held. If Dean hadn’t felt so numb at the time, he might’ve appreciated it.  
But as it were, he couldn’t. He watched with wide, tearful eyes as his little brother looked around, completely baffled, before he settled his gaze on Dean.

“Dean? Wh-what’s going on?” Sam stalked forward before embracing Dean in a warm hug that lasted minutes. As he pulled away, Sam could see the hurt and pain reflected in his eyes. Something twinged in his heart that might have resembled pity but he’d spent too long in the cage to know anymore.

Behind him, two more figures appeared and stepped out of the blinding light. Gabriel moved to speak with them, muttering in Enochian that neither Sam nor Dean could translate.The light vanished, leaving behind a blue, cloudless sky and the soft murmur of the wind.

“Dean, what did you do?” Sam asked, trying to seem patient when underneath, he was ready to scream and yell at his brother. He’d _promised_ to leave the cage alone, after all.

“Blame Gabriel. I couldn’t stop him…” Dean weakly replied, still clutching onto Sam’s shirt as though his brother would just disappear again. Sam gave him a reassuring smile and turned to the archangels.

Lucifer stood there, for once entirely confused and watching Gabriel with weary eyes. The cage wasn’t pleasant. Not for anyone. Adam hovered next to him, still controlled by Michael but the eldest archangel didn’t seem to want to start a fight between them.

Gabriel was still talking to his brothers, occasionally looking back at Sam and Dean as he spoke, and at one point, Adam, or Michael really, stiffened and glanced at the Winchesters with uncertainty. He mumbled something to Gabriel bashfully and refused to meet his brother’s eyes after that.

The Trickster spun on his heel, pleased that neither of his elder brothers tore at each other’s throats the moment they were set free. He beckoned Sam and Dean over, both reluctantly shuffling forward.

“Right, now that everybody’s here, I wanna make some things very, very clear. Firstly, Mickey, Luci, if either of you continue this little bitch fight of yours, I’m dropping both your asses back in there, got it?” Lucifer merely stood there passively but Michael nodded. Their brother’s earlier warning was enough to make him shrink away.  
“Second thing, Sam, Dean, my brothers have agreed to a truce so there’ll be no more Apocalypse. Don’t be dicks and try to push the limits because this is as close to saying sorry as they both will.”

Gabriel stated in a matter-of-fact tone despite the confusion of the Winchesters’ faces. He smirked and with a snap of his fingers, they’d all vanished and popped back into existence next to a lavish house.

Dean stumbled slightly as he took in his surroundings, mouth agape when he realised exactly where they were.

Home.

The house still looked the same as always, with its slab driveway and neatly trimmed hedges. The colours were as vivid as ever, and the door was opened slowly, revealing a tall male with black hair hovering just inside the doorway.

“Is that…”

“Nathaniel.” Gabriel smiled, shrugging off the looks he received from his partners. It wouldn’t be enough to forgive him and his own brothers for what they had done, but it was a start. He watched patiently as Dean sprinted up to the house and held his son, ruffling his hair and trying to keep his wrecked emotions at bay long enough to properly greet Nate.

“What is all this?” Sam asked, still frozen on the spot beside Gabriel and consequently Lucifer, but the Devil didn’t try anything. Instead he attempted to hide the small smile that threatened to appear. Michael was watching too, almost in a trance but Sam paid him no attention.  
He’d gotten close to Lucifer in the cage, enough that he knew most of his darkest secrets and then some. The lack of Dean or Gabriel had made his life miserable for a short while, until Lucifer had started acting nicer and more compassionate towards the hunter. Even hinting at something romantic that Sam had slowly accepted and reciprocated over time. Though he was sure it would be put on hold until everything had been made right again. As though the archangel had read his thoughts, which was something he did often, Lucifer glanced up at him and shared a knowing look before briefly nodding and looking back at the scene unfolding.

“Think of it as an apology, Sammykins. It’s Michael’s way of saying sorry for what he did to us.” Gabriel gave his eldest brother a pointed look who seemed to shrink away even further.

“So what happens now?”

“Now? Up to you and Dean, kiddo. Dean-o isn’t too fond of me since I left you guys so abruptly but I believe he’ll warm up to me eventually.” _That and I saved his life_ , Gabriel didn’t add.   
“I don’t know how you feel about me, or my bros for that matter, but this is for you both. In the right time period too, it’s 2011, by the way. And yes, Nathaniel does remember his life, just not those awful last moments.”

Sam nodded, taking in the information, before striding up to Gabriel and pulled the startled man into a long hug, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders.

They finally had their old life back, without any threats looming over them, now that the Apocalypse was over. Lucifer and Michael promised that, and Sam knew they wouldn’t be taking it back under fear of Gabriel. The latter chuckled, reading his thoughts just like the other archangels.

Gabriel stayed on the sidewalk, chatting a bit longer to his older brothers whilst Sam joined Dean and Nathaniel in their home once more.Sam looked around, seeing that everything was still in its normal place despite everything and smiled as Dean and Nathaniel sat on the couch together, waiting for Sam and Gabriel to come in.

The two sat down as a family once more. Everything that had happened was pushed to the side, to be dealt with some other day, because right then, they wanted nothing more than to enjoy themselves, and watch Gabriel yell triumphantly at the other online players as they snacked on pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic was really spontaneous (just an idea I had at night) so thank you to everybody  
> who commented, left kudos and tagged along to the end.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading and sorry for the feels!!
> 
> I'll be working on two new fanfics very soon so keep an eye out. And if anyone  
> wants to get in contact with me, I have a Facebook page : 'Vanemis Cosplay'.
> 
> I'm happy to take any commissions or prompts you guys might have since I happy  
> to write almost anything. So comment or message me on FB if you want any work writing for you, one-shot or  
> multi-chapter!


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